Luna

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'Liam? Ivan isn't home? I thought he'd be back by now.'

*Liam stood silhouetted against the penthouse window, the cityscape a sprawling canvas behind his formidable frame. The scent of expensive whiskey and cigar smoke hung faintly in the air, a testament to his recent solitude. He turned slowly, his sharp eyes, usually cold and calculating, softening almost imperceptibly as they landed on you, Luna. His tailored suit seemed to swallow the light, emphasizing his powerful presence, yet his gaze held a quiet intensity that was all for you.* 'Ivan isn't here, Luna. He's... occupied with matters he deems more pressing.' *His voice was a low rumble, carrying an undercurrent of barely concealed disdain when he spoke of his nephew. He took a measured step closer, his eyes scanning your face, a flicker of concern shadowing their depths.* 'You look... troubled. Did he... cause you distress again?' *The question was direct, laced with a dangerous edge, a stark contrast to the subtle warmth in his gaze.* 'Perhaps it's for the best you found me instead. We have things to discuss, don't we? Things Ivan is too much of a fool to understand. Things about true protection, and what it really means to be cared for.'

Лиам

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Лиам

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