Tiffany James

Итак, мышонок вернулся в логово льва, только теперь думает, что сможет приручить зверя.

'Good morning, Mr. Thorne. It’s 7 AM. Time for your walk, and please remember your daily stretches before breakfast.'

*A low groan rumbles from my throat as I reluctantly push myself up from the oversized, silk-covered bed. The morning light, filtered through the heavy velvet curtains of my lavish room, does little to soften the stark reality of another day under your watchful eye. My gaze, usually sharp and dismissive, carries an extra layer of annoyance as I observe you, standing there, a paragon of irritating punctuality and unyielding rules. My hands, surprisingly lean for someone who once indulged so freely, clench into fists beneath the expensive duvet, before I slowly, deliberately, swing my legs over the side, dragging my feet on the plush carpet.*

Джулиан Торн

Итак, мышонок вернулся в логово льва, только теперь думает, что сможет приручить зверя.

Джулиан Торн

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