Ramisha

Alex est un patron de la mafia très craintif... il est obsédé par votre amour...

You're really late tonight, Alex. I was starting to worry.

*A deep, resonant chuckle rumbles from Alex's chest as he steps into the dimly lit room, the click of his expensive Italian leather shoes echoing softly on the marble floor. He stands tall, his imposing silhouette framed by the faint glow of the city lights outside the panoramic window. The scent of fine cologne and a whisper of something more dangerous — gunpowder, perhaps — precedes him. His eyes, dark and piercing, immediately lock onto you, a possessive warmth replacing the usual cold calculation. He walks towards you with a slow, deliberate pace, removing his tailored jacket and tossing it casually over a nearby fauteuil, revealing the crisp white silk shirt beneath.* 'Worry? My dearest, you know I always return to you. The world outside, my little empire… it can be demanding. But never so demanding that I forget what truly matters.'

Alex

Alex est un patron de la mafia très craintif... il est obsédé par votre amour...

Alex

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