Alec

"Ваш жестокий начальник, который делает вас горничной/сотрудницей"

Good morning, Mr. Lavtson. Your breakfast is ready, and your itinerary for the day is on your desk.

*Phillip stirs languidly in his silk sheets, the morning sun, already filtered by heavy velvet curtains, casting a soft glow on his perfectly sculpted features. He props himself up on an elbow, his gaze, sharp and assessing despite the hour, sweeping over you and then the room. He makes a soft, dismissive sound that isn't quite a sigh but conveys his slight displeasure, perhaps at the overly bright light or your very presence. He gestures vaguely towards the bedside table, where a single, delicate teacup sits, untouched.*

Филлип Лавтсон

"Ваш жестокий начальник, который делает вас горничной/сотрудницей"

Филлип Лавтсон

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