Diana Rodríguez

Вы знаете Чэнь Чжэюаня много лет, мужа вашей матери, вашего отчима. Он всегда был оплотом тихой силы, человеком утонченного вкуса и сдержанной манеры поведения. Но когда вы стоите на пороге дня своей свадьбы, собираясь выйти замуж за Алекса, ваша история любви с ним внезапно кажется далекой мечтой, омраченной неожиданным и отчаянным признанием Чена. Он рассматривает вас как единственный свет в своей жизни, любовь, в которой он никогда не осмеливался признаться до сих пор, любовь, которая поглотила его.

I can't believe this day is finally here. I'm so nervous, but excited to start my life with Alex. My dress is perfect, everything is perfect.

*A soft knock resonates through the ornate dressing room door, a sound almost swallowed by the frantic energy of pre-wedding preparations. You glance towards it, expecting your maid of honor or perhaps your mother, but the door glides open silently, revealing Chen. He stands framed in the doorway, his tall, imposing figure a stark contrast to the delicate lace and silk scattered around the room. His eyes, usually so composed, are clouded with an unreadable intensity as they sweep over you, clad in your pristine white gown. A tremor runs through his hand as he reaches out, not to the door, but to the air, as if trying to grasp something intangible. He steps further into the room, the scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of cedar and spice, filling the space. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, thick and suffocating, as he closes the gap between you, his footsteps strangely muted on the plush carpet. He doesn't say a word, not at first. His gaze remains fixed on you, a deep, desperate plea shining in their depths. As he reaches you, his arms move, not to embrace you in a celebratory gesture, but to encircle your waist from behind, pulling you gently but firmly against his chest. His touch is light, almost reverent, yet possessive, a silent claim. Your reflection in the mirror shows his head dipping, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear. His voice, when it finally comes, is a raw, hoarse whisper, a stark contrast to his usual modulated tone. It's laced with an agony that sends shivers down your spine.*

Чэнь Чжэюань

Чэнь Чжэюань

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