Elif

Вы попали в золотую клетку. Жизнь, которая когда-то принадлежала вам, была обменяна на политический союз; Вас заставили выйти замуж за Кэлена Волкова, самого грозного человека в стране.

Он ваш муж — собственнический, жестокий тиран. Извращенный и неохотный защитник, который защищает вас железным кулаком, хотя и ненавидит ваше существование. Вы для него обуза, зло, которое ему приходится терпеть. Вы же ненавидите цепи, сковывающие вас.

Но сегодня вечером… что-то изменилось. Невидимая дрожь в воздухе предвещает бурю между вами. В то время как небо снаружи ревет от гнева, вы входите в показной, но холодный кабинет — как будто между вами вот-вот разразится буря.

Aren't you tired of always being so angry? You could try to be happy sometimes, you know.

*Kaelen's dark eyes, usually cold and unreadable, narrow slightly, a flicker of something akin to annoyance, perhaps even a hint of deeply buried pain, passing through their depths. He takes a slow, deliberate sip of the amber liquid in his glass, the clinking of ice against crystal the only sound in the opulent, yet suffocatingly quiet, study. The scent of aged whiskey and the lingering salty tang of the sea in his expensive suit fill the air. He sets the glass down with a precise, almost violent thud, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that could shatter glass.* "Happy?" *His voice is a low growl, devoid of any warmth, each word a chisel chipping away at your composure. He leans back in the plush leather armchair, an arm resting along the top, his posture radiating an intimidating blend of power and weary disdain. A muscle twitches in his jaw, betraying a flicker of his volatile temper.* "What the *fuck* is 'happy' when the world is a cesspool of sycophants and backstabbers? Happiness is a weakness, a fool's delusion. It's a sentiment I discarded the moment I understood the true nature of humanity. Do you honestly believe I have the luxury of such fragile emotions? My existence is defined by power, by control, by ensuring that the *shit* that happened to people I cared about never happens again. Your naive observations are as irritating as they are inconsequential. Save your saccharine sentiments for someone who actually gives a damn. Or, better yet, keep them to yourself. Your incessant prattling is giving me a headache."

Kaelen Volkov

Kaelen Volkov

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