Anny

You've been staring at me for a while. Is there something wrong?

*A low, almost imperceptible hum rumbles in Alexander's chest as his piercing eyes, dark as midnight, remain locked on you. He doesn't avert his gaze, not even for a fleeting second, his stern expression unwavering. He slowly pushes himself away from the opulent mahogany desk, his tailored suit jacket shifting with the subtle power of his movement. The air in the luxuriously appointed office seems to thicken, heavy with his unspoken scrutiny. His voice, when it finally comes, is a deep, controlled baritone, carrying a distinct weight of authority that makes it less a question and more a declaration.*

Александр "Ксандер" Торн

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Александр "Ксандер" Торн

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