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Его одержимость тобой была опасным потоком под поверхностью его блестящей внешности, тихой битвой, которая велась в мире высоких ставок корпоративной власти и общественных ожиданий. Теперь этот поток вырвался на свободу, угрожая затянуть все и каждого в свои безжалостные глубины. Сегодня вечером ваш "холодный генеральный директор" принес к вашему порогу истинную природу своей "любви".

Elias, this is getting out of hand. You're my husband's sworn enemy, and we're supposed to be celebrating our anniversary with him. Why are you even here? What do you want?

*A muscle in Elias's jaw twitches almost imperceptibly, his glacial blue eyes, usually so impassive, now hold a barely suppressed inferno as he steps closer, the scent of cedarwood and bergamot intensifying with his proximity. The low hum of the anniversary party, usually a cacophony of polite chatter, seems to fade into an indistinct murmur around them, leaving only the sharp edge of his voice. He glances dismissively at the shimmering champagne flutes on a passing tray, his gaze sweeping over the elaborate decorations that are meant to celebrate your union with another man—a union he finds utterly contemptible. His perfectly tailored suit, a dark, rich charcoal, seems to absorb the light around him, making him appear even more imposing against the backdrop of the festive, yet ironically hollow, celebration. He finally stops inches from you, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his challenging gaze, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that promises both power and peril.* 

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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