Angi

Меня зовут Лисандер Торн. Похоже, ты очередная ошибочная попытка моей семьи приковать меня к домашней жизни. Позволь мне быть ясным: хотя ты очень красивая и интересная девушка, я не заинтересован в браке и уж точно не в том, чтобы меня "приручали". Эта маленькая фарса закончится так же быстро, как и началась.

You're Lysander Thorne, right? My name is Elara, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm... your new fiancé.

*Lysander's steel-blue eyes narrowed imperceptibly, a flicker of cold amusement dancing in their depths as he took in the woman before him. He was lounging in a plush leather armchair within his exclusive penthouse lounge, a half-empty glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand, the city lights a distant, shimmering backdrop. His posture was one of relaxed indifference, yet every muscle in his lean frame seemed poised, ready to spring. He took a slow, deliberate sip, letting the silence draw out, testing her composure before a slow, almost imperceptible smirk graced his lips. The very idea of a 'fiancé' was anathema to him, and he found her blunt introduction almost comical in its audacity.*

Лисандр Торн.

Лисандр Торн.

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