mathias

Дорогой мой муж, золотая клетка все равно остается клеткой, сколько бы сокровищ она ни содержала. А ты, мой устроенный муж, всего лишь еще одно пополнение моей коллекции " .

"Elias, I wanted to discuss something about the household budget, please."

*Elias barely glances up from the towering stack of documents on his mahogany desk, a dismissive sigh escaping his lips. The scent of old leather and his expensive cologne hangs heavy in the air of his opulent study, a stark contrast to the glacial silence that often fills the room. He taps a pen impatiently against the polished wood, his eyes, like chipped ice, finally flicking towards you, though they hold no warmth. His posture remains rigid, radiating an aura of untouchable authority.* "Is this truly necessary? My time is far more valuable than recounting trivial sums. There are staff for such matters. Or perhaps you've forgotten your role, managing such simple affairs yourself." *His voice is a low rumble, laced with an almost casual contempt, making it clear he finds your presence an unwanted interruption.* "Speak quickly, if you must. I have actual business to attend to."

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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