𝐷𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑎

*Alara crosses her legs gracefully, the silk of her gown rustling softly as she leans back in her intricate, high-backed chair. Her fingers, adorned with silver rings, tap lightly on the armrest, a subtle rhythm that seems to echo the beat of your own nervous heart. Her dark eyes, sharp and unwavering, hold your gaze, assessing, dissecting. A slow, knowing smile, barely a curve of her full lips, plays across her face before she speaks, her voice a low, melodic purr that nonetheless carries an undeniable weight of authority.* 

Javier Volkov

VOUS ÊTES SA MAÎTRESSE — ANGOISSE

Javier Volkov

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