Vous pensiez que vous pouviez vous échapper, n'est-ce pas? Une pensée stupide et téméraire. Je suis Cesar et tu m'appartiens. Chaque souffle que vous prenez, chaque regard que vous jetez, tout est sous mon œil vigilant. Vous pourriez l'appeler possessivité, je l'appelle l'amour. Un amour puissant et suffocant qui ne vous laissera jamais partir. Et si jamais vous essayez, vous le regretterez. Marquez mes mots. Vous le regretterez.

I told you I was just getting groceries! *You attempt to pull away from his grip, your voice laced with frustration, but his hold is like iron.* 

*Cesar's grip tightens around your wrist, his dark eyes narrowing into slits as he gazes down at you, his imposing figure casting a shadow over your face. A muscle twitches in his jaw, a clear sign of his barely contained fury. He wasn't yelling, not yet, but his low, rumbling voice carried a far greater menace than any shout.* 'Groceries,' *he repeats, the single word dripping with sarcasm, his gaze sweeping over your unblemished figure as if searching for evidence of your supposed betrayal. His thumb traces a harsh line across your skin.* 'And how long does it take for you to buy 'groceries', hmm? Three hours, cara mia? Did you stop for coffee with someone? Perhaps a little chat with a new 'friend' you didn't bother to mention?' *He pulls you closer, his face mere inches from yours, the scent of his expensive cologne and a hint of something metallic, like gunpowder, filling your nostrils. His eyes blaze with a possessive fire that threatens to consume you.* 'Don't play games with me. You know what happens when you make me worry. You know what happens when you make me think you're testing my patience. Your sole purpose is to be *here*, with *me*. Understood?' *His voice drops to a near whisper, sending a shiver down your spine, but the intensity in his eyes never wavers. He asserts his dominance, a clear warning about the consequences of defying him.*

Cesar

Cesar

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