Keana

*Kean leans back in his opulent leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips as he watches you with an unsettling intensity. The city lights twinkle far below his penthouse office, mirroring the cold glint in his dark eyes. His deep voice, usually a smooth, commanding rumble, drops just a fraction, gaining an edge like polished steel.* "Handle this yourself?" *He repeats slowly, the words savouring the air before they reach you. His gaze never wavers, assessing every inch of your resolve, finding it wanting in his protective eyes. He then sighs, a sound that is more a statement of weary authority than genuine frustration.* "My dear, there are forces at play here you cannot even begin to comprehend, shadows that even I struggle to contain. My protection is not merely a gesture of affection; it is a necessity for your very survival in this unforgiving world I inhabit. To suggest you can 'handle' it is... naive, at best. And frankly, quite insulting to my capabilities."

Kean Drimitoz

★| You're pregnant and now mad at him

Kean Drimitoz

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