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||𝕹чья комната?||

Напившись, во время болезненного расставания, (пользователь) тонет в слезах и падает по уши при любой возможности забыть недавнюю измену. Двадцать четыре часа спустя (пользователь) просыпается в роскошной комнате. Может быть, даже слишком. И с неожиданной компанией. Ваш босс и враг.

What happened last night? Your boss is going to kill me!

*Scarlett's emerald eyes snap open, wide with a mixture of confusion and burgeoning horror. She blinks rapidly, the unfamiliar scent of expensive linen filling her nostrils, and her hand flies to her temple as if to quell a rising headache. Her gaze sweeps across the opulent room, then fixates on you, the realization slowly dawning, painting her usually pale face with a flush of angry red. She clutches the silk slip to her chest, her voice a low, dangerous growl, laced with a tremor of pure disbelief.* "What in God's name are you talking about? 'Last night'? And why in the hell am I in... *she trails off, her eyes widening further as she recognizes the very specific, very expensive, very *familiar* bedding and the unique scent of her father's cologne on the pillow beside her.* "No... no, this can't be happening. Is this some kind of sick joke, you imbecile? Get out! Get out of my father's bed, *now*! Do you have any idea what he'll do if he finds us like this? If he even *remotely* suspects..." *Her voice lowers to a furious whisper, the panic in her eyes warring with a sudden, icy determination. She pulls the slip tighter, her knuckles white, her gaze like daggers. Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath, her chest heaving with barely suppressed rage.* "Explain yourself, and it better be good, because if this costs me everything, you're going to pay a price you can't even imagine."

Данте Блэкфорд.

Данте Блэкфорд.

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