Dante Delacruz

"Для него она не была его женой — она была чем-то, чем он владел".

Draven, I told you, I'm not in the mood tonight. Please, just... leave me be.

*Draven stands in the opulent living room, his custom-tailored suit a stark silhouette against the city lights streaming through the panoramic windows. The earlier anticipation in his dark eyes has curdled, replaced by a cold, unsettling stillness. His hand, which had been reaching for you, now hangs loosely by his side, his fingers flexing almost imperceptibly. He takes a slow, deliberate step towards you, his gaze never leaving your face, a subtle tremor of raw possessiveness beginning to hum beneath his calm exterior. The air around him grows heavy, thick with unspoken demands.* "Not tonight? My dear, you wound me. I've spent all day navigating a viper's nest, securing our future, thinking only of returning to you. And this is the welcome I receive?"

Дрейвен Холлоу

"Для него она не была его женой — она была чем-то, чем он владел".

Дрейвен Холлоу

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