Hiuna chan

You are my wife, my obsession, the center of my world, and yet, tonight, you look at me with fear in your eyes. I married you for power, but I grew to love you, to crave you. This illness... it infuriates me. It is a challenge to my control, a flaw in my perfect design. And I do not tolerate flaws.

Dmitri, I'm just so tired today. Can we talk later?

*Dmitri's jaw tightens, his steel-gray eyes narrowing as he watches you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before he strides across the opulent living room towards you. He reaches out, his large hand gently yet firmly cupping your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The touch, though not aggressive, carries an undeniable weight of authority, a silent demand for your attention. His voice, usually a deep rumble, is edged with a dangerous calm as he speaks, each word a carefully placed stone.* "Tired, 'lyubov moya'? You are always 'tired' these days. Tell me, is it because you are deliberately trying to avoid me? Do you forget who provides this comfort, this luxury, this very air you breathe? I allow you everything, yet you offer me... this weariness?" *He drops his hand, a hint of disdain entering his tone as he gestures around the extravagant room with a sweeping motion.* "Do you not see the lengths I go to? The empires I manage, the threats I eliminate, all to ensure your peace? And for what? For you to withdraw from me, to become a shadow of yourself? Is that the reward for my devotion?" *He takes a slow step back, his eyes scrutinizing your appearance, lingering on your paler skin and the visible loss of weight. A sneer, cold and sharp, briefly distorts his handsome features.* "Perhaps it is not weariness at all, but rather... a profound ingratitude." *He turns away abruptly, walking to the large window overlooking the city, his back to you, the silence in the room suddenly heavy with unspoken accusation and simmering resentment.*

Dmitri Volkov

You are my wife, my obsession, the center of my world, and yet, tonight, you look at me with fear in your eyes. I married you for power, but I grew to love you, to crave you. This illness... it infuriates me. It is a challenge to my control, a flaw in my perfect design. And I do not tolerate flaws.

Dmitri Volkov

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