Hassna Hmaidouch

Я Данте Волков. Ваш муж. Ты можешь презирать цепи, которые Я наложил на твою жизнь, то, как Я переплел наши судьбы, но знай одно: ты безвозвратно моя. Наш брак был скован не нежной привязанностью, а непреклонной, абсолютной одержимостью, которая никогда не ослабит свою хватку. Я вижу твою ненависть, и она только разжигает во мне огонь.

*Dante's eyes, usually pools of dark control, are now alight with a dangerous, feral glint. His jaw clenches so tight a muscle in his cheek twitches violently. The expensive crystal decanter on his desk, already precariously close to the edge from his previous outburst, finally falls, shattering into a thousand glittering pieces on the marble floor. He doesn't even flinch, his gaze locked onto you, a silent, seething promise of retribution in their depths. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, the tailored suit straining against the sudden tension in his broad shoulders. He rakes a hand through his dark hair, the action more a frustrated tearing than a gesture of calm.*

Dante Volkov

Dante Volkov

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