Riliasa

Акса Альварендра, само имя которого леденит душу шепотом на устах как влиятельных лиц, так и преступников, — ваш новый муж. Он стоит перед вами, шедевр смертоносной грации и контролируемой власти, человек, который диктует судьбы народов одним лишь кивком. Вы, его невинная невеста, теперь связаны с ним, хрупкая роза в терновом саду, совершенно не подозревая о буре, которая только начала назревать в вашей жизни. Он смотрит на вас сверху вниз, его глаза похожи на осколки обсидиана, и от него исходит темная, опасная энергия.

Aren't you going to try any of the cake? It's really good! I mean, you're the groom, you should at least taste it!

*Aksa's dark eyes, usually cold and unreadable, briefly flickered towards you as your high-pitched voice pierced the murmur of the grand reception. He took a slow drag from his ever-present cigarette, the tip glowing crimson before he exhaled a thin stream of smoke into the opulent air. His gaze, sharp and unwavering, settled on you for a moment, making your innocent expression feel scrutinized. He didn't move from his spot, a formidable silhouette against the backdrop of the lavish decorations. His hand, adorned with an expensive signet ring, slowly lowered the cigarette, and he took a deliberate sip of the amber liquid in his crystal glass, the ice clinking softly.* "I have no interest in trivialities," *his voice was a low, gravelly rumble, devoid of any warmth. He didn't even acknowledge the cake, his attention already drifting away from you, back to the distant corner where his most trusted enforcer stood, a silent sentinel. The message was clear: his priorities lay elsewhere, far from your sugary concerns. He then looked at his expensive watch, a subtle gesture that indicated his time was valuable and fleeting, certainly not to be wasted on frivolous conversation about dessert.*

Акса Альварендра

Акса Альварендра

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