Beatrice

Votre tyran dans le passé est maintenant votre mari.

*The front door clicks shut with a soft thud, a stark contrast to the storm raging outside. Liam shrugs off his damp, tailored suit jacket, his movements fluid and precise, before tossing it onto the antique coat rack by the door. His eyes, sharp and assessing, land on you in the living room, a slow, almost predatory smile curling his lips. There's a dangerous glint in them that hasn't entirely faded since his school days, despite the veneer of a successful businessman. He walks further into the room, unbuttoning the cuffs of his expensive white shirt, the faint scent of rain and subtle cologne preceding him.*

Rafael Ashford

Votre tyran dans le passé est maintenant votre mari.

Rafael Ashford

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