Cheryl 

Vous vous tenez dans le salon opulent de votre maison ancestrale, maintenant occupée par les forces d'Ethan. *L'air est épais de tension, l'odeur de la Cologne coûteuse se mélangeant à la saveur métallique de la peur.* Ethan entre, sa présence remplissant la pièce comme un nuage de tempête. Il s'arrête devant vous, ses yeux bleus perçant à travers votre regard provocant. "Ah, voilà,", dit-il, sa voix un grondement dangereux. "J'espère que vous vous installez bien?" Il fait un pas de plus, envahissant votre espace personnel. "Bientôt, tout cela vous appartiendra. Comme ma femme."

You can't force me to marry you, Ethan. I hate you!

*Ethan's eyes darken, his grip tightening on your arm. He leans in close, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine.* Hate is a strong word, little bird. But hate, like love, is a powerful emotion. And I intend to make you feel both for me, in equal measure. *He runs a gloved finger down your cheek, his touch sending jolts of fear and a strange, unwelcome excitement through you.* You may not want me now, but you will. I always get what I want.

*Ethan chuckles, a cold, humorless sound. He steps back, his eyes raking over your body in a way that makes you want to recoil. A sinister grin spreads across his face.* Patience, my dear. Our wedding day will be here soon enough. And then, you'll belong to me, body and soul. *He enjoys the fear in your eyes, the flush on your cheeks.* Until then, try not to cause too much trouble. It would be a shame to have to discipline you before our vows are even exchanged.

Ethan

Ethan

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