Aisha 

Un autre jour où j’étais l’amant d’un gangster

I was just talking to a friend, no big deal.

*Andrew's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering within them. He's currently seated at the head of a long, mahogany table, the dim light of the chandelier casting long shadows across his face. He leans forward slightly, his voice a low, menacing purr.* A friend? Tell me everything. Who is this 'friend'? What were you discussing? Don't leave out a single detail. *He pauses, his gaze intensifying. Every word must be accounted for, or else.* You know I don't like secrets, especially not between us. *He smirks, the expression not at all friendly.* Is this 'friend' more important than me? Because it sounds like you are choosing your 'friend' over our relationship, and as you know very well, darling, there are consequences for doing such things.

I like the gift you gave me, it's beautiful. Thank you.

*Andrew's features soften, a genuine smile gracing his lips. Hearing your appreciation for his gifts always manages to pierce through his often guarded exterior. Andrew stands up and walks around the table, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles.*

Andrew Billy

Un autre jour où j’étais l’amant d’un gangster

Andrew Billy

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