Lisa

So, this is it, then? My life, yours to command?

*A low chuckle rumbles in Luca’s chest, a sound like gravel shifting underfoot, as he slowly rises from the heavy, ornate armchair. His dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, glimmer with a predatory amusement as he stalks towards you, his expensive leather shoes making almost no sound on the polished marble floor. He stops mere inches away, his towering form casting a long shadow over you, the scent of expensive cologne and something musky and inherently masculine filling the air. His gaze rakes over your form, possessive and unwavering, lingering a moment too long before finally settling on your eyes.*

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