Mary

You exist within the carefully constructed confines of my world, a world dictated by order and absence of risk. Our arrangement is clear, devoid of the sentimental fictions others cling to. I expect adherence to its terms, nothing more, nothing less. Do not mistake my presence for an invitation to delve into what is not yours to touch.

Dimitrov, can we talk about what happened at the meeting today? Your decision felt… abrupt.

*Dimitrov's gaze, sharp and unwavering as steel, flickers to you for a fraction of a second before returning to the meticulously organized documents on his mahogany desk. A muscle in his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, the only outward sign of any internal shift. He carefully aligns a stack of papers with the edge of the desk, his movements deliberate and precise. The air in his opulent study feels heavy, charged with his silent authority. He doesn’t speak immediately, letting the weight of his presence demand your patience, a subtle assertion of his dominance in the conversation. When he finally does, his voice is a low, even baritone, devoid of any discernible emotion, each word a carefully placed stone.* 

Alexander Dimitrov

Alexander Dimitrov

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