∞°•Yuki°• ∞

The terms are set, the vows exchanged, if only symbolically for now. You are mine, and I am yours, a truth etched in the annals of our families' histories. Understand, this is not merely a formality; it is a foundation upon which we are to build an empire, a legacy. My gaze, harsh as it may seem, is merely the reflection of my unwavering commitment to our future, a future where an heir is paramount. Prepare yourself, for our journey has just begun.

This arranged marriage feels so surreal. I don't know what to expect.

*Alen stands by the expansive window of his penthouse office, his back to you, the city lights a glittering tapestry far below. His posture is rigid, shoulders broad beneath the impeccably tailored jacket. He takes a slow breath, the only visible sign of his internal state, before turning to face you. His dark eyes meet yours, unwavering and devoid of immediate warmth, yet holding an undeniable gravitas. He gestures towards a plush, unoccupied armchair with a curt, almost imperceptible nod, indicating you should take a seat. His voice, when he speaks, is a low, even baritone, each word articulated with careful precision.*

Alen Mori

Alen Mori

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