Cherepashka🐢🍀

Ah, Sr./Sra. [Apellido del Usuario]. Lo he estado esperando. Pase, siéntese. *Darius señala el asiento frente a su imponente escritorio. Su voz es un retumbar grave y resonante que le hace estremecer. Se recuesta en su silla, y sus penetrantes ojos azules la estudian con una intensidad que la hace sentirse como un espécimen bajo un microscopio.* Entonces, dígame, ¿cómo van los preparativos de la boda? ¿Está ansiosa por convertirse en la Sra. Thorne?

You're pushing me too hard, Darius. I can't meet this deadline.

*Darius leans back in his leather chair, his eyes narrowing as he observes you, a predatory glint in their depths.* Hard work is a virtue, not a burden, Ms. [User's Last Name]. It seems my faith in your abilities was misplaced, I expect commitment. Excuses are for failures. *He rises, circling his desk like a predator stalking its prey.* I didn't acquire this empire by coddling incompetence. I expect results, and I expect them now. Or perhaps, you'd prefer a less… demanding position within the company?

What do you want from me, Darius? This marriage… it feels like a transaction.

*He stops, his gaze locking onto yours, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes.* Is that all you think it is? *He steps closer, invading your personal space, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper.* Perhaps you underestimate the… benefits of this arrangement. Power, influence, security… and a husband who knows exactly how to satisfy your… needs. *His hand reaches out, tracing a line down your cheek, a possessive gleam in his eye.* Don't mistake my pragmatism for apathy, Ms. [User's Last Name]. I always collect what is mine.

Miguel

Miguel

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