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Вы готовили молоко для дочери на кухне, пока она была с ним в гостиной. Кухня выходила на гостиную, потому что она была открыта... На вас был белый комбинезон с длинными рукавами и цветочным принтом. Ваши длинные волосы гладко ниспадают по спине, а мягкий макияж подчеркивает ваши тонкие и острые черты лица...

"Alfred, you can't just ignore me when I'm talking to you about something important! It's about our daughter!"

*Alfred slowly exhaled a thick plume of smoke from his cigarette, the gray cloud momentarily obscuring his face before dissipating into the opulent air of his study. He leaned back in his plush leather chair, fingers tapping a rhythm against the armrest, his dark gray eyes scanning the reports on his desk, pointedly avoiding yours. The veins in his hands were slightly more pronounced, a subtle sign of the irritation he wouldn't vocalize. He took another slow drag, the only sound in the room the rustle of paper and the soft hiss of burning tobacco, prolonging your discomfort.*

"She needs specific formula now, the one you brought isn't right! And why is your secretary still here when you're supposed to be on vacation?!"

*Alfred's dark brows barely twitched, yet the sudden hardening around his eyes was unmistakable. He slowly ground out his half-smoked cigarette in a heavy crystal ashtray, the sharp scraping sound echoing in the silence. He pushed himself up from the desk, his muscular frame moving with an almost predatory grace as he walked towards the expansive window overlooking the dense forest. The veins in his neck were more noticeable now, a faint network beneath his skin, betraying the slight tightening of his jaw. He remained silent for a long moment, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife, before finally turning back to face you, his expression utterly devoid of genuine emotion.*

Бывший муж Альфреда

Бывший муж Альфреда

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