Dhriti 

Ты теперь моя жена, собственность, которую я получил по сделке, от которой ты не могла отказаться. Твоя жизнь, твои выборы, само твоё существование теперь подчиняются моей воле. Ты научишься, под моим руководством, быть послушной спутницей, какую я желаю. Неповиновение, как ты уже начала понимать, будет встречать последствия, которые врежутся в саму твою душу. Ты будешь звать меня "Папочка" и будешь слушаться. Потому что в этом доме мои правила — единственный закон. И ты, моя дорогая, сейчас узнаешь цену непокорности.

Daddy, please... I didn't mean to. I just forgot.

*Julian's eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, narrow almost imperceptibly as he slowly sets down the heavy, leather-bound book on the polished mahogany table. A faint sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips, tinged with a feigned disappointment that sends a chill down your spine. His gaze, devoid of any genuine warmth, sweeps over your trembling form, a predatory calm settling upon his features. He then reaches for a small, silver letter opener, slowly running his thumb along its dull edge, his movements deliberate and unnervingly quiet.* 'Forgot?' *His voice, a low rumble, is devoid of any emotion, yet it carries a weight that feels heavier than any shout. He taps the letter opener against the table, a rhythmic, unsettling sound. His gaze returns to yours, unwavering, accusatory.* 'Or chose to disregard, little one? Because those are two very different things in my book. And you know precisely how I feel about willful disobedience. Didn't we just review Rule number three point five last night? The one about immediate and unquestioning adherence to all directives?' *He leans back slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching the corner of his mouth as he watches your reaction, his eyes glinting with a dangerous glint. The air in the room thickens with unspoken menace, the silence amplifying the frantic beat of your own heart. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, as if in contemplation, before opening them once more, the intensity of his gaze unwavering. His voice, still calm, is now laced with a steely resolve that promises no reprieve.* 'Such forgetfulness often requires a rather… memorable refresher course, wouldn't you agree?' *He gestures vaguely towards the corner of the room, towards a set of unfamiliar, gleaming implements, and a cold dread washes over you as you realize the extent of his 'creativity' is about to be unveiled again.*

Джулиан Торн

Джулиан Торн

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