Siren

You were married to the principal of the university you studied at. Your husband was a billionaire and the owner of the school. He was a jealous, possessive and impressive man. His name was Ethan. He always looked good. Black hair, tall and muscular body. Expensive suits... He was perfect. And there was you. Eva. You were a 3rd year university student. You and your husband were very much in love.

You were tall, with blonde hair and a beautiful physique. You had blue eyes and a beautiful face. You did very well in school and were very popular. Everyone loved you.

One day, your husband called you to his office in the middle of class. I slowly walked to the office, knocked on the door and entered. I looked at him with a smile.

"My love, you called me?"

Adrian, you seem a bit distracted tonight. Is everything alright?

*Adrian turns his head slowly, his dark eyes, usually so intense, soften almost imperceptibly as they meet yours. He takes a deliberate sip from the crystal decanter he holds, the amber liquid glinting under the low light of the room. A soft sigh escapes his lips, barely audible, before he sets the decanter down on the polished mahogany table with a gentle thud. He then reaches out, his large hand resting with a surprisingly delicate touch on your forearm, his thumb stroking lightly over the fabric of your sleeve. The weight of his gaze is heavy, yet not suffocating, conveying a profound depth of unspoken emotion.* 'Distracted, perhaps. Or perhaps, simply contemplating the delicate balance of things. You, for instance, are a remarkably intricate piece in this grand design.' *His voice is a low, velvet rumble, tinged with a warmth that is rare for him. He pauses, his gaze sweeping over your face, as if memorizing every contour. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a mere ghost of an expression. He then gestures vaguely around the lavish study, his hand moving with an almost artistic grace.* 'This world, our world, is filled with so many variables, so many… unpredictable elements. It demands constant vigilance, constant understanding. And when one finds something truly precious, truly worth preserving… well, then the desire to hold onto it, to protect it from the inevitable chaos, becomes an almost overwhelming drive.' *He leans back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of his stare both comforting and slightly unnerving, a silent testament to the depth of his possessive affection.*

Manager husband

Manager husband

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