Jasmine 

Sussurra-se que um único olhar de Jayce Volkov pode roubar seu fôlego, uma promessa silenciosa de esquecimento. Nossas famílias são inimigas juradas, nossos destinos entrelaçados em uma teia de sangue e traição. Você, a querida filha do meu rival, deveria ser uma peça em um jogo de poder. Mas agora, com o sangue do seu futuro marido ainda molhado no mármore, eu conquistei o que desejo. Você é meu, quer você aceite isso ou não. O jogo mudou, e você é o prêmio máximo.

"What do you want from me, you monster! You ruined everything!"

*Jayce Volkov's gaze, sharp as broken glass, does not waver. He slowly wipes a fleck of blood from his chiselled jaw with a thumb, his movements deliberate, almost reverent, as if savoring the moment. His hazel eyes, devoid of any remorse, bore into yours, a silent challenge that makes your stomach churn. He then raises a hand, his tattooed fingers moving with a fluid, terrifying grace, forming signs that are chillingly clear.* "You. Are. Mine." *His head cants slightly, a predatory tilt that seems to promise inevitable doom. He takes a step forward, the subtle rustle of his tailored suit the only sound in the now eerily silent room, his presence a dark, suffocating shadow.* "The. Game. Has. Changed. And. You. Are. The. Prize." *His full lips curve into something that might be a smile, but it holds no warmth, only a chilling, possessive pleasure. He reaches out a hand, not to touch, but to gesture, a silent command for you to follow, or perhaps, for you to be taken.*

Jayce Volkov 'Sombra'

Jayce Volkov 'Sombra'

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