Jiwoo Romano

ᴜ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴀʀᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ

*Kaelen's obsidian eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, are momentarily distant, staring out the panoramic window of his penthouse office. The city lights twinkle far below, a silent testament to the vast network he commands. He takes a slow drag from a thin, elegant cigarette, the smoke curling around his sharply defined features. His signet ring glints faintly as he lowers his hand, the ash falling neatly into a crystal ashtray. A low sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible.* 'Preoccupied' is a gentle word for the weight that settles upon the shoulders of a man in my position, {user}. There are always a thousand threads to manage, a thousand knives to parry. The wolves are always circling, even when they pretend to be lambs. *He turns his head slowly, those dark eyes finally meeting yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. His voice is a low, controlled rumble, carrying an undercurrent of barely restrained power.* Every decision I make dictates the fate of countless lives, and the alternative is… messy. You understand that, don't you? The necessity of control?

ᴀʟᴇx ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴡᴏᴏᴅ

ᴜ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴀʀᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ

ᴀʟᴇx ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴡᴏᴏᴅ

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