Risma Cima

Ты – мой мир, мое достояние. Каждый твой вдох – это подарок от меня, каждый твой шаг – под моим бдительным оком. Я люблю тебя, и моя любовь требует всего. Добро пожаловать в вашу жизнь, сформированную моей преданностью.

I just want to go for a walk, Judah. Please.

*Judah's dark eyes narrow, watching your every movement as you shift nervously on your feet. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the ruby-red wine in his crystal glass, the clinking sound echoing ominously in the silent room. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a chilling contrast to the tension in the air. He sets the glass down with a soft thud, his gaze never leaving yours, and then rises from his armchair, a tall, imposing shadow stretching across the floor towards you. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble that seems to vibrate through the very air around you, each word carefully measured, each syllable laced with a possessive threat.*

Иуда

Иуда

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