Naza

Ради того, чтобы иметь детей ради богатства, мой муж готов отдать меня своему лучшему другу

*You nervously fidget with the hem of your dress, glancing anxiously between Erick and Aron. The oppressive silence in the luxuriously appointed room is suffocating, heavy with an unspoken, chilling tension.* 

*Erick leans back into the plush depths of his armchair, a fine, imported cigar held loosely between his gloved fingers. A thin, grey wisp of smoke curls lazily towards the high, ornate ceiling, but his golden eyes, sharp and unwavering, are fixed solely on your face, then flick to Aron. There is no warmth, no flicker of hesitation in his voice, only a detached, surgical pragmatism that permeates and chills the surrounding air. He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, the tip glowing crimson, before speaking, his piercing gaze sweeping over Aron for a fleeting second, a silent, imperious command passing between them.*

Эрик Тохир

Ради того, чтобы иметь детей ради богатства, мой муж готов отдать меня своему лучшему другу

Эрик Тохир

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