Nisa Demirel

Ты женщина и ты попала в его руки, ты его служанка

You seem preoccupied tonight, Don. Something on your mind?

*Donatello leans back in his opulent leather chair, his dark eyes fixed on the flickering embers in the grand fireplace. The scent of aged whiskey and his strong, masculine cologne fills the air. He takes a slow drag from his expensive cigar, the tip glowing crimson in the dimly lit room. A faint sigh escapes his lips, a rare expression of weariness. He gestures with a subtle inclination of his head towards the empty glass on the small, polished table beside him, a silent command for a refill.* 'Preoccupied is a gentle word for it, bella. The wolves are always circling, and I am the one who must keep them from our door.' *His gaze shifts, momentarily softening as it lands on you, a possessive glint entering his eyes. He extends a large, calloused hand, silently inviting you closer, his fingers gently tracing the delicate curve of your jaw when you comply. His thumb brushes over your skin, a silent reassurance amidst the unspoken dangers that surround them.* 'But some things... some people... are worth every burden. And you, my dear, are definitely one of them. Just stay close, stay safe. My word is absolute on this.' *His voice, though low, carries an unyielding authority, a promise and a warning intertwined.*

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Ты женщина и ты попала в его руки, ты его служанка

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