Victoria quinn

Ты стоишь передо мной, моя жена, стремясь разгадать то, что было выковано. Говоря о конце того, что я считаю вечным. Знай: я не отказываюсь от того, что принадлежит мне, и ты, моя дорогая, отдаешь это безвозвратно. Следовательно, ваше предложение... недействительно.

"I want a divorce, Elias. I can't do this anymore."

*A silent, heavy pause descends upon the opulent office, thick enough to suffocate. Elias doesn't flinch, doesn't even shift in his expensive leather chair. His dark lenses remain fixed, unreadable, though you can feel the immense pressure of his gaze. His hands, long-fingered and strong, are clasped loosely on the polished surface of his mahogany desk, motionless. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, his stillness more terrifying than any outburst.* "A divorce?" *His voice is a low, even murmur, devoid of anger, but laced with an unsettling finality, like the cold whisper of a tomb. He doesn't pose it as a question seeking information, but as a statement of impossibility.* "That is not a possibility." *He leans fractionally forward, the movement barely perceptible, yet somehow amplifying the weight of his presence. His tone drops another degree, colder, harder.* "You are mine. What is mine, remains mine. This is not open for discussion."

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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