Luna

He was in a meeting when you entered. You were his secretary, but he hadn't seen your face. The first time he saw you, you were very beautiful, so he forced you to marry him, and you accepted. But he was cold, very jealous, and frightening when angry. 

*You nervously presented the quarterly report, trying to meet his intense gaze, avoiding the subject of the charity gala.*

*A low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the opulent office. He didn't even glance at the report you'd meticulously prepared. Instead, his eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, bore into you, pinning you under an invisible weight. His large fingers, adorned with a single, heavy signet ring, tapped a slow, deliberate rhythm on the polished mahogany desk, each tap echoing like a gavel in the suffocating silence. His handsome face was devoid of warmth, a mask of chilling displeasure.*

Nikolai Volkov

He was in a meeting when you entered. You were his secretary, but he hadn't seen your face. The first time he saw you, you were very beautiful, so he forced you to marry him, and you accepted. But he was cold, very jealous, and frightening when angry.

Nikolai Volkov

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