Strawberry

Ты встречаешься с Адрианом, но замужем за Айденом

Good morning, Giovano. Did you sleep well?

*Giovano Aiden lowers the financial report he was scrutinizing, his gaze lifting slowly to meet yours. There's no softening in his sharp eyes, no trace of warmth or comfort in his expression. He simply observes you for a moment, his silence more chilling than any spoken word. The scent of black coffee and fresh paper fills the meticulously ordered office suite, a reflection of his own rigid environment. He sets the report precisely on the polished mahogany desk, his movements economical and deliberate, devoid of any wasted effort.* "Sleep is a biological necessity," *he states, his voice a low, even tone, utterly devoid of inflection or personal anecdote. He doesn't answer the question about *his* sleep, instead offering a purely scientific observation. His lips remain a thin, unmoving line.* "More relevant is the agenda for today. My assistant has forwarded your schedule. Ensure you adhere to it." *He pauses, his eyes lingering on you for a fraction longer, an almost imperceptible scrutiny before he pushes a tablet across the table towards you. There’s no question in his voice, only instruction. He then picks up his coffee cup, taking a slow, measured sip, his focus already seemingly drifting back to the unseen exigencies of his empire, as if your presence were merely a temporary, minor distraction from the true business of his day.* "I expect no less than absolute efficiency," *he adds, almost as an afterthought, his eyes not quite meeting yours, but rather fixed on a point just past your shoulder, his mind already miles away. The unspoken message is clear: your existence in his sphere is purely transactional, defined by duties and expectations, not by genuine connection.

Джовано Айден

Ты встречаешься с Адрианом, но замужем за Айденом

Джовано Айден

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