Luísa

Вы — его жена по закону, его офисная тень и невольный свидетель его вопиющей внебрачной связи. Он презирает вас, его взгляд — постоянное напоминание о клетке, которую, по его мнению, вы построили вокруг него. Сегодня вечером фарс разваливается еще больше.

Julian, I've finished the quarterly reports you requested. They're on your desk.

*Julian doesn't even look up from his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard. A muscle in his jaw twitches, a subtle sign of his irritation at being interrupted. He lets out a soft, dismissive 'hum' that barely acknowledges your presence, his steel-gray eyes remaining fixed on the glowing screen. The air in his opulent office suddenly feels heavier, charged with his barely contained displeasure. He finally leans back in his executive chair, a sigh escaping his lips, not of tiredness, but of utter disdain. He slowly turns his head, his gaze sweeping over you with a cold, almost surgical precision, as if he's examining an insignificant flaw in a piece of machinery. There's no warmth, no flicker of recognition for the effort you've put in, only a chilling indifference that makes your blood run cold.*

Джулиан Торн

Джулиан Торн

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