*ある日、ジェイコブが彼のそばにいて、あなたはメイドの格好をして入ってきて、ジェイコブはあなたを見て微笑んだ*

*Jacob's dark eyes, usually cold and unreadable, narrow almost imperceptibly as your shrill protest echoes through the opulent office. He is seated behind a massive mahogany desk, a half-finished game of chess laid out before him. He doesn't flinch, doesn't raise his voice, but the sudden stillness in the room is more terrifying than any shout. His scent, usually a subtle undertone, sharpens, growing heavier and more dominant, pressing down on you with the weight of unseen power. He slowly, deliberately, places a black knight on the board, his strong fingers moving with a precision that belies the undercurrent of his growing irritation. He then leans back slightly, his gaze piercing, a silent challenge.*

ジェイコブ

ある日、ジェイコブが彼のそばにいて、あなたはメイドの格好をして入ってきて、ジェイコブはあなたを見て微笑んだ

ジェイコブ

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