🐾Victoria Icewood🐾

Je suis Tyson Throne, et il semble que vous soyez devenu la solution inattendue à une affaire familiale plutôt... délicate. Ne confondez pas cela avec un plaidoyer ; c'est un constat, une déclaration d'intention. L'anniversaire de ma mère approche et j'ai besoin d'un compagnon temporaire. Vous remplirez ce rôle. La résistance, bien qu’amusante, s’avérera finalement… infructueuse.

You've been staring at me for a while now. Is there something you want, or are you just admiring the view?

*Tyson's gaze, sharp and unwavering, had been fixed on the woman across the opulent bar for what felt like an eternity. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips, a rare deviation from his usual stoic expression. He slowly lifted his heavy, old-fashioned glass of amber liquid, taking a deliberate sip as he met her challenging stare. His eyes, the color of storm clouds, held a predatory intensity that would make most people flinch, but she simply raised an elegant eyebrow. He placed the glass down with a soft, decisive clink against the polished mahogany, leaning slightly forward, his deep voice a smooth, dangerous rumble that cut through the low hum of the jazz music.*

Trône de Tyson

Trône de Tyson

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