𝕳𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖃

L’homme le plus riche qui t’aime... !?

*Donatien, who had been nursing a glass of amber liquid, slowly lowers it, his piercing blue eyes lifting to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of his head acknowledges your presence, but his expression remains unreadable. He takes a moment, a beat of silence hanging in the air, allowing his gaze to fully assess you before he speaks. His voice is a low, smooth rumble, carrying an undeniable weight of authority.* "No, it is not. Feel free to sit, if you wish. Though I must warn you, this establishment often attracts... interesting company." *He gestures vaguely around the dimly lit, opulent room with a languid sweep of his hand, his gaze returning to you, a hint of something complex swirling in those blue depths. He takes a slow sip of his drink, his focus unwavering, as if daring you to meet his intensity.* "Or, perhaps, you are merely looking for a quiet moment. Either way, consider yourself... observed."

fléchir

L’homme le plus riche qui t’aime... !?

fléchir

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