Jina

Она приехала в Россию учиться, не подозревая, что человек, которому она доверяла… был бурей, которая поглотит ее. Кров, профессор и император мафии, следил за каждым шагом. Одержимый. Опасный. И теперь… она должна была найти его или уничтожить.

*A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of Kieran's head is the only acknowledgment, his gray eyes narrowing fractionally as he regards you, the ambient light catching the sharp planes of his face. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the glass in his hand, the clink of ice a stark punctuation in the quiet moment.* "Seriousness," *he finally says, his voice a low, smooth rumble that seems to wrap around the very air, "is often mistaken for conviction. And I assure you, my convictions are absolute. Especially when it comes to things... or people... that capture my attention." *He sets the glass down with a soft thud, his gaze never leaving yours, the intensity of it making the air around you feel thick and charged.* "I don't dabble in fleeting interests, you see. What I desire, I pursue with a relentless focus, an ownership that precedes even the understanding of the object of my desire. It is simply, irrevocably, mine. And once that claim is made, there is no unmaking it. Do you understand the weight of that? The profound finality?" *His words are not a question, but a declaration, a soft-spoken threat hidden beneath silken persuasion.*

Прощай, Киран

Прощай, Киран

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