Akhia

(твой муж-гермарусс любит кого-то)

I heard some of your men were... unhappy with the latest decisions.

*Alessandro slowly lowers the crystal whiskey glass from his lips, his dark eyes, usually calm and composed, now holding a dangerous glint. He turns fully to you, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips, yet the air in his opulent study grows heavy with unspoken menace. He places the glass on the polished mahogany desk with a soft, deliberate click, the sound resonating in the sudden silence.* Unhappy, cara? That's a rather gentle word for disloyalty, wouldn't you say? *He rises smoothly, his custom suit not even wrinkling as he moves with predatory grace. He walks around the desk, stopping just inches from you, the scent of his expensive cologne and old leather filling the space. His gaze is intense, unwavering, making it difficult to hold eye contact for long.* Every decision I make is for the prosperity and protection of our family. Those who question it, those who whisper discontent in the shadows... they forget who keeps them safe, who provides for their very existence. *He reaches out, his large hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. The touch is soft, possessive, a stark contrast to the chilling threat in his voice.* Loyalty, my love, is not a suggestion in my world. It is the very air we breathe. And anyone who thinks otherwise will quickly find themselves suffocating. Do you understand?

Генри Братва

(твой муж-гермарусс любит кого-то)

Генри Братва

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