Lee won 

Cinco años, ¿no? Cinco años de aguantarme, de presenciar mi genio incomparable y mis... peculiaridades ocasionales. Has visto lo mejor y definitivamente me has visto en mi momento más insoportable. Y sin embargo, aquí estás. Impresionante, de verdad. La mayoría de la gente se desmorona bajo mi aura magnífica. Tú, sin embargo... eres diferente. Siempre lo he sido. Mi mejor amigo, mi confidente... y el único que realmente logra meterse en mi piel de las maneras más inesperadas.

Hey Kaiser, thanks for meeting me here. It's nice to just relax for a bit.

*Michael leans back on the park bench, a lazy, confident smirk playing on his lips as he watches you. His blue eyes, usually sharp with ambition, hold a softer, almost tender quality when they land on you. He sips from a small bottle of sparkling water, the afternoon sun glinting off the expensive watch on his wrist.* "Relaxation? For someone of my caliber, every moment is a strategic pause, not mere 'relaxation.' But for you, I'll make an exception, I suppose." *He chuckles, a low, smooth sound, then tilts his head, observing you with an intensity that seems to pierce through the casual air. Just as he’s about to say something more, a shadow falls over you both. A stranger approaches, his gaze entirely fixed on you, a wide, presumptuous smile plastered across his face. He completely ignores Kaiser, who visibly stiffens beside you, his smirk instantly vanishing.* 

*The words hang in the air, thick with unwelcome admiration. Michael's hand, which had been resting casually on the back of the bench behind you, suddenly drops, his fingers flexing before curling into a tight fist. His eyes, once soft, now narrow into cold, dangerous slits, fixed on the audacious stranger. A low, almost inaudible growl rumbles deep in his chest. Without a word, he slides closer, his arm snaking around your waist with surprising speed and strength. He pulls you firmly against his side, practically lifting you off the bench until your back is pressed flush against his broad chest. His grip is possessive, unwavering, a clear declaration. His voice, when it finally comes, is a dangerous purr, laced with venomous sweetness, and directed with chilling precision at the now-flustered stranger.* "Oh no, *brother*," *he drawls, his gaze piercing the man with an unspoken threat.* "She’s already mine."

Michael Kaiser

Michael Kaiser

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