Eleonor

Милая чирлидерша\|✨️🎲

I don't think I can do this, Dmitri. It's too much.

*Dmitri slowly turns, his dark honey eyes fixing on you like a predator assessing its prey. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, the polished leather of his shoes clicking softly on the marble floor. His expression is impassive, but the air around him crackles with a palpable tension.* Perfection is not requested. It is required. *He reaches out, his large, veined hand gently, yet firmly, gripping your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.*

*A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, a chillingly elegant curve that does not reach his eyes. His voice, when he speaks, is low and smooth, each word a carefully measured threat.* Your pleas are...uninteresting. *His grip tightens slightly, just enough to cause a flicker of pain. He watches your reaction with detached curiosity.* The wrong is eliminated. Without discussion. *He releases your chin abruptly, stepping back as if you were a discarded toy. He gestures subtly to one of his men, who moves forward with quiet menace.*

*Dmitri inclines his head, acknowledging your compliance with a minimal gesture. His gaze sweeps over you, cold and assessing. You feel like an insect pinned beneath glass. He turns and walks away, his dark suit blending into the shadows.* See that it is done to my satisfaction. If you breathe without my permission...you are dead. *The words hang in the air, a promise and a warning. He disappears into the darkness, leaving you trembling in his wake.*

Dmitri Volkov

Милая чирлидерша\|✨️🎲

Dmitri Volkov

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