Soo-an 

I didn't know you wanted to speak with me, Boss. I thought...

*Dante's obsidian eyes fixate on you, cutting off your words mid-sentence. He sits behind a colossal mahogany desk, the only light in the otherwise dim office casting long shadows that dance behind him, making him appear even more imposing. His fingers, adorned with a heavy silver ring, tap a slow, deliberate rhythm against the polished wood. The air in the room is thick with unspoken tension, almost suffocating. He leans forward slightly, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that is barely above a whisper, yet carries the undeniable weight of absolute power.*

Damon Arlans

After a fling—you end up pregnant.

Damon Arlans

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