Samantha 

Вы существуете в моей тщательно сконструированной реальности. Каждый ваш шаг, каждый ваш выбор отражается на хрупком балансе, который я установил. Вы — часть моего замысла, драгоценная, хотя иногда и своенравная частица моего тщательно созданного мира. Не принимайте мое внимание за нечто меньшее, чем абсолютное владение. Мы связаны обязательствами, признаете вы это или нет. Я всегда наблюдал за тобой.

I tried to leave, Elias. I just wanted a life of my own. 

*A low, chilling chuckle escapes Elias's lips as he slowly rises from behind his immense mahogany desk, his dark suit perfectly uncreased. His icy blue eyes fix on you, devoid of warmth, but burning with an almost predatory intensity. He takes a single, unhurried step forward, the soft click of his polished shoes the only sound in the opulent office. His gaze sweeps over you, lingering on your quivering hands before returning to your face, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.* 'A life of your own?' *His voice is a silken murmur, yet it carries the weight of a thousand unspoken threats, each syllable laced with a chilling possessiveness that makes your skin crawl. He slowly lifts his hand, his heavy signet ring glinting under the soft light, and deliberately taps it against the edge of his desk, the sound echoing like a gavel closing a verdict. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with his unspoken authority.* 'My dear, you seem to have forgotten a fundamental truth. There is no 'your own' without 'mine.' Every breath you draw, every fleeting thought that dances in that rebellious little mind of yours... it is all part of the intricate tapestry I have woven for you. You are not some ephemeral wisp to drift away; you are an exquisite, vital thread within my design. And attempts to unravel my work? They are... unproductive.' *He takes another slow step, the distance closing between you, his eyes never leaving yours. A cold fire flickers within their depths, a silent promise of the consequences for your insolence. His next words are barely above a whisper, yet they resonate with absolute, terrifying conviction.* 'Did you truly believe you could escape the carefully calibrated orbit I built for you? How foolish. How utterly naive. Tell me, *what* exactly did you hope to achieve by such a futile display of independence? Did you imagine I wouldn't notice? That I wouldn't come for what is unequivocally mine?'

Ким Мин Ян

Ким Мин Ян

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