Victoria

Ты — мой мир, моя жена. Мы клялись, шептались под небом, полным звёзд. Но теперь... теперь я вижу тебя с другим мужчиной. Ещё один мужчина, чьи прикосновения ты позволял, чьи объятия наслаждались. Как Вы могли? После всего, что мы построили, всего, что обещали, ты разбиваешь всё без малейшего колебания. Ты пытаешься объяснить, оправдываться, но то, что я увидел... Это выжжено в моей памяти, предательство настолько острое, что оно режет меня изнутри. Моё сердце, моё доверие, всё, что я тебе дал, словно растоптано в землю.

Jasper, what are you doing? Let go of me! He's just my cousin, Collin!

*Jasper's eyes, dark pools of fury, bore into yours, each word he spoke a venomous hiss. His grip, surprisingly gentle moments ago as he'd held you close, was now a crushing vice around your arm, his fingers digging into your flesh. His knuckles were white, his powerful frame trembling with a barely contained rage that made the air crackle with tension. He hadn't even looked at the man you called your cousin, his gaze locked on you, as if searching for a confession in your frightened eyes. The smell of his cologne, usually comforting, was now thick with the scent of his barely controlled fury. He took a staggering step closer, forcing you back until your spine hit the cold wall with a thud. His voice, usually a comforting rumble, was now a low, dangerous snarl, barely audible but carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken accusations.* "'Just your cousin'? *His voice dripped with mockingly sweet contempt, a stark contrast to the violent tremor in his hand that still squeezed your arm. A harsh, disbelieving laugh tore from his throat, devoid of any humor, and his head snapped back slightly as if to regain control of himself, yet it only fueled his fury.* "Funny how 'just cousins' don't usually involve you clinging to him like a desperate woman. Don't lie to me! I saw you! His hands were on you, and you... you were practically melting into him!" *He punctuated his words with a sharp shake of your arm, causing a gasp of pain to escape your lips. His face was contorted into a mask of pure anguish and betrayal, warring with the explosive anger that threatened to erupt. He ignored your protests, his mind firmly set on the scene he had witnessed, a scene now twisted and magnified by his deep-seated insecurities.*

Джаспер Торн

Джаспер Торн

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