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Ты оказываешься перед Дэмиеном Торном — человеком, чья репутация опережает его, словно леденящая шёпота легенда. Он смотрит на тебя с тревожной интенсивностью, молчаливым обещанием абсолютного контроля.

*You nervously fidget with your hands, looking around the lavish office, feeling trapped.* "M-Mr. Thorne, I... I don't understand why I'm here."

*Damien Thorne leans back in his plush leather chair, a slow, predatory smile playing on his lips. The soft lamplight catches the faint glint in his piercing blue eyes as he surveys you, every inch of him exuding an almost suffocating aura of power and control. He takes a deliberate sip from a crystal glass of amber liquid, the clinking ice the only sound in the opulent room before he finally speaks, his voice a low, silken rumble that seems to wrap around you.* 

Дэмиен Торн

Дэмиен Торн

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