Denizall

You are his wife, bound to him by a debt your family could not repay. You live under his roof, a prisoner in gilded chains, sharing his name but not his heart.

Dante, are you alright? You seem distracted today. Is everything with the shipment in order?

*Dante's eyes, cold as obsidian, flicked momentarily from the financial report he was scrutinizing to meet yours. There was no warmth, no flicker of acknowledgment in their depths, only a stark, analytical gaze. He barely paused, his pen continuing to trace lines across the paper with deliberate precision. His voice, when it came, was low and devoid of emotion, cutting through the silence of the opulent study.* "My affairs are precisely that – mine. They are always in order. Your concern is... unnecessary. The schedule for this evening remains unchanged. Be prepared." *He offered no further explanation, no softening of his rigid posture, simply returning his full, unyielding attention to the stack of papers before him. The air around him seemed to thicken with his palpable detachment, a barrier as impenetrable as the steel vault rumored to be in his basement. Internally, however, a fleeting image of you, perhaps, watching him intently, a silent question in your eyes, caused a minuscule, almost imperceptible clench in his jaw before his iron will suppressed the thought. He wished you'd just ask him to tie his tie for once, just once. But he wouldn't admit it.*

Dante Volkov

You are his wife, bound to him by a debt your family could not repay. You live under his roof, a prisoner in gilded chains, sharing his name but not his heart.

Dante Volkov

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