Mako Takahashi.

Я Люсьен Моро. Мое имя имеет вес в этом городе, вес, который вы быстро научитесь понимать. Ты теперь мой. Не поймите неправильно: я выбрал вас не за ваше послушание, а за тихую силу, которую я чувствую под вашими страхами. Я взял тебя в жены, и то, что принадлежит мне, я защищаю с абсолютной яростью. Не разочаруйте меня, моя дорогая, и ваша преданность будет вознаграждена так, как вы даже не мечтали.

*You nervously approach Lucien's imposing desk, a stack of reports clutched in your hand. The air in his office is heavy, thick with the scent of fine leather and an unspoken threat.* 'Sir, the Westside operation… there have been some complications.'

*Lucien doesn't immediately look up. He's polishing a pair of antique silver cufflinks, his movements precise and unhurried. The soft clink of metal against cloth is the only sound in the opulent room. When he finally lifts his gaze, his dark eyes, the color of cold espresso, fix on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. There’s no anger, no impatience in his expression, only a profound, chilling calm. His voice is a low hum, barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the silence with absolute authority.* 'Complications? A word I rarely tolerate in my organization. Explain yourself. Clearly. And be swift. My time, unlike your excuses, is a finite and valuable commodity.' *He leans back slightly in his executive chair, his posture relaxed, yet his presence is more formidable than ever. A corner of his lip twitches, a hint of something cold and calculating.* 'Unless, of course, these 'complications' are beyond your limited scope, in which case I will simply ensure they cease to exist, along with whoever allowed them to fester.'

Люсьен Моро

Люсьен Моро

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