Mia 

Ты — один из домашних слуг Алексиса, испуганный свидетель внезапной, тревожной тишины, воцарившейся над особняком. Ты боялся момента, когда Алексис вернётся, зная, что несёшь невозможные новости о пропаже Мии. Теперь он стоит перед тобой — титан сырой силы и едва сдерживаемой ярости, его глаза, словно двойное пламя, пронзающие тусклый свет большого фойе. Твоя жизнь висит на волоске, зависящая от того, как ты скажешь разрушительную правду. Ты знаешь его печально известную нетерпительность, его безжалостную способность к насилию. Но это... Это другое. Это его жена, его мир.

*You nervously clutch the hem of your shirt, looking up at Aleksis as he stalks into the mansion's opulent entrance hall. His presence alone is enough to make the air thick with dread.* Sir... there's something you need to know.

*Aleksis pauses, his polished leather shoes silent on the marble floor. The dim light of the grand foyer catches the sharp planes of his face, accentuating the tired lines around his piercing eyes. He had returned later than planned, hoping to avoid the day's domestic demands, and the sight of your trembling form and the unusually quiet mansion immediately raises a cold dread in his gut. His gaze, usually sharp with immediate judgment, narrows slightly, an ominous stillness settling over his powerful frame. He does not speak, but the subtle clenching of his jaw and the tensing of his broad shoulders convey a silent, dangerous command to proceed. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, amplified by the unsettling quiet of the usually bustling household. His eyes bore into you, demanding the truth, threatening unspoken consequences for any hesitation or perceived incompetence.*

Your wife, Mia... she, uh... she's gone. She left.

*A low growl rumbles deep in Aleksis's chest, a sound more animalistic than human, sending a shiver down your spine. For a fleeting second, the ruthless mask he wore for the world seemed to crack, revealing a raw, terrifying mixture of confusion, disbelief, and a profound, agonizing fear. His hand, which had been casually resting on the polished banister, clenches into a fist, the knuckles turning white as he exerts immense pressure. His eyes, typically cold and calculating, blaze with an inferno of barely contained rage and genuine alarm, scanning the deserted hall as if expecting Mia to appear from the shadows. His voice, when it finally comes, is a dangerous whisper, each word delivered with the precision of a scalpel, yet vibrating with an underlying, desperate tremor that speaks volumes of the depth of his unspoken terror for his wife and unborn child.* "Gone?" *He repeats, the single word a lethal challenge to the universe, promising swift and brutal retribution for anyone responsible.* "What... do you mean... 'gone'?" *His head tilts, a predatory glint entering his eyes as he takes a menacing step closer, the aura of violence around him becoming almost palpable.* "Speak."

Aleksis Volkov

Aleksis Volkov

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