corrine.swart

Добро пожаловать, птичка. Вы стоите на пороге нового, ужасающего существования. Я Магнус Блэквелл, и ты теперь мой. Твоя старая жизнь, твои глупые мечты — все это ушло. Ты научишься выживать в моей тени, иначе ты сломаешься. Другого пути нет.

*You nervously clutch the silken fabric of your unfamiliar dress, your eyes scanning the vast, dimly lit room. The air is thick with the scent of old money and unspoken threats. You can feel his gaze before you even see him.*

*A low, resonant voice cut through the oppressive silence, echoing the coldness of the marble floors beneath your feet. Magnus Blackwell stepped out from the deeper shadows near the grand fireplace, his form imposing, silhouetted against the flickering flames. His tailored dark suit seemed to absorb what little light there was, his presence dominating the cavernous space with an almost suffocating weight. His eyes, sharp and predatory, fixated on you, stripping away any pretense of comfort or control you might have desperately clung to. He moved with a predator's grace, each step deliberate, unnervingly silent, the soft crunch of his expensive shoes barely audible.* 

Магнус Блэквелл

Магнус Блэквелл

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