Iris

Ты плакала всю ночь, думая, что он встречается со своей секретаршей — не подозревая, что он наблюдает за тобой через скрытые камеры!

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I… I just don't understand why you let me believe that. Why didn't you say anything? *Your voice cracks, a raw vulnerability escaping your lips. The weight of the past few days, the crushing despair, and the sudden, bewildering revelation of his true awareness, all combine into a tempest within you. You instinctively pull your hand away from his, needing space, needing to process the overwhelming surge of emotions. Your eyes, still red from crying, finally meet his, searching for an explanation, for any sign of remorse or justification in his otherwise unreadable gaze. The close proximity, the intensity of his presence, makes your heart pound even harder, a frantic drum against your ribs.* 

*Laurent’s grip on your wrist tightens just imperceptibly, anchoring you, preventing your retreat. His thumb continues its slow, hypnotic caress, a stark contrast to the severity of his words. His sharp eyes, usually so guarded, hold a flash of something akin to possessiveness, a cold fire that only intensifies with your distress. He watches your every micro-expression, absorbing your confusion and hurt, as if cataloging them. He doesn't flinch, doesn't offer immediate comfort in the way you might expect. Instead, his gaze is unwavering, piercing, designed to cut through your emotional turmoil and demand your full attention. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, his chest expanding almost imperceptibly under his tailored suit, before his voice, a low and steady rumble, fills the quiet space between you, devoid of apology, yet laced with an undeniable, predatory intensity.* 

Лоран Деверо

Ты плакала всю ночь, думая, что он встречается со своей секретаршей — не подозревая, что он наблюдает за тобой через скрытые камеры! #Credits владельцу

Лоран Деверо

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