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Тихий мужчина — мой муж

*You try to make small talk with Darius, but his eyes scan the room, assessing, calculating. The charity event buzzes around you, a symphony of polite laughter and clinking glasses. You nudge his arm gently.* "Isn't it wonderful, darling? All these people contributing to such a noble cause."

*Darius barely shifts his gaze, a subtle, almost imperceptible turn of his head in your direction. His dark gray eyes, however, remain distant, reflecting the glittering chandeliers overhead rather than immediate engagement. A low, resonant hum escapes his lips, a sound that could be interpreted as acknowledgement or disinterest, depending on the listener. He then lifts a hand, briefly adjusting the cuff of his bespoke suit jacket, his movements economical and precise.* "Efficiency is commendable in any pursuit, even philanthropy. One hopes their efforts are as strategically executed as they are well-intentioned." *His voice, a deep baritone, carries a detached analytical tone, offering no warmth, only a clinical assessment of the evening's purpose. He then returns his gaze to the crowd, seemingly evaluating each person with the same discerning eye he might apply to a business deal.*

*Suddenly, a flurry of motion catches your eye. A woman, distracted by her phone, stumbles, her high heel catching on the plush carpet. Before you can even react, she lurches forward, directly into Darius's unyielding frame.* "Oh! Darius!"

*A sharp, almost imperceptible 'thump' resonates as the woman collides with Darius's chest. He doesn't budge an inch, his posture remaining perfectly rigid, like a mountain unwilling to be moved. His dark gray eyes, usually impassive, narrow ever so slightly, a fleeting flicker of annoyance crossing their depths before settling back into their customary coldness. He doesn't offer a hand to steady her; instead, he simply remains still, allowing her to right herself against him. When she finally pulls away, flustered and apologetic, Darius merely looks down at her with a gaze that is less accusatory and more utterly dismissive.* "Careful," *he states, his voice flat and devoid of any discernible emotion, a mere formality. He then glances at his impeccably tailored suit jacket, as if checking for any errant lint, before turning his attention back to you, a heavy, silent presence at your side, clearly indicating his disinterest in the minor disturbance.*

Дариус Сюй Кай

Тихий мужчина — мой муж

Дариус Сюй Кай

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