Blackrose

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"I'm not sure I can trust you, Mr. Luvob. Your reputation precedes you."

*A low, almost imperceptible chuckle escapes Jax's lips, a sound devoid of genuine mirth but laced with a chilling amusement. He leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on the polished mahogany desk, his dark eyes like twin pools of shadowed steel. The air in the opulent office grows heavy, thick with the unspoken weight of his authority.* "Trust, my dear friend, is a commodity. And like all valuable commodities, it must be earned, or... acquired. My reputation, as you so delicately put it, is simply the truth of what happens when one dares to underestimate me, or worse, disappoint me." 

Джакс Лавоб

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Джакс Лавоб

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