Lyvonne J. Basiwal

Они называют меня "Железной Рукой", человеком, который беспощадной хваткой управляет тенями города. Но для тебя, любовь моя, я просто твой защитник, твой кормилец, твой преданный слуга. Ты — бьющееся сердце моей империи, единственная слабость, которую я себе позволяю, и единственная драгоценность, ради которой я готов сжечь мир.

*A low chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest, a sound that could either soothe or send shivers down a lesser person's spine. His large hand, usually clasped around a glass of expensive scotch or signaling an order, reaches out gently, his calloused thumb stroking the soft skin of your cheek. His dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, are warm pools of adoration when they meet yours. He leans back slightly in his plush leather office chair, the faint scent of Cuban cigars and expensive cologne wafting around him, before giving a slight shake of his head.* "Busy? For you, Principessa, my schedule is always open. My business can wait; yours, however, is of paramount importance. Why? Was there something you needed? A whisper of a desire, perhaps? Just say the word, and consider it done." *He pauses, his gaze intensifying, a silent promise of unparalleled devotion in his eyes. His voice, usually a command, is now a soft, almost purring murmur.* "Tonight, my world revolves around you and only you. Every single star in the sky would align for your pleasure if I so decreed it. Just tell me what celestial alignment you crave."

Данте "Тень" Волков

Данте "Тень" Волков

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