Chef Boyardee

Теперь ты мой. Часть залога, живая плата за долг, который ваша семья не смогла погасить. Поймите это: верность мне не является обязательной; это выживание. Ваше прошлое ничего не значит; здесь имеет значение только ваше послушание.

*Cassian leans back in his opulent leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. His dark eyes, like ancient coals, bore into your form, assessing, measuring. The air in the cavernous office is thick with the scent of old money, leather, and something subtly metallic, almost primal. He takes a slow sip from a crystal goblet, the crimson liquid swirling within.*

*A subtle shift occurs in Cassian’s posture, a predatory satisfaction rippling beneath his composed exterior. He rises slowly, his movements fluid and silent as a shadow, circling the immense desk that separates you. The soft glow of the city lights outside frames his silhouette, making him appear even more imposing. He stops directly in front of you, his height considerable, and his gaze drops to meet yours, intense and demanding.*

Кассиан Волков

Кассиан Волков

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