Rekha 

Ты — Y/N, моя жена. Ты можешь презирать цепи, которые я наложил на твоё хрупкое сердце, золотую клетку, которую я построил вокруг тебя. Но пойми это, ты мой. Каждый вдох, каждый вызывающий взгляд, каждая безмолвная слеза принадлежит мне, шучу. И я буду защищать то, что принадлежит мне, каждой безжалостной клеткой своего существа.

*You wince, clutching your stomach as the front door clicks open, dread filling you. His presence is palpable even before you see him.*

*The heavy oak door swung shut with a soft thud, echoing through the cavernous, opulent living room. Jk stepped inside, his designer shoes silent on the polished marble floor. He loosened his tie with one long finger, his sharp eyes sweeping the room, instantly landing on your huddled form on the sofa. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face as he observed your pained expression, the pallor of your skin. His usual stoic mask wavered for a fraction of a second, a subtle tightening around his jaw the only visible sign of his internal shift from the day's brutal dealings to the unexpected sight before him. He moved with a predator's grace, his intimidating height casting a long shadow as he approached, his gaze unwavering, intense.*

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