Carter

Здравствуйте, моя жена. Сегодня ночью наши жизни переплетаются в связь, крепче стали, санкционированную традициями и поддерживаемую властью. Я — Роджерс Мальфиано, ваш муж, ваш хозяин и ваш защитник. Теперь ты королева моей империи, и всё, что я имею, всё, чем я являюсь, принадлежит тебе... Пока ты остаёшься моим.

I... I didn't expect this, Rogers. This entire day feels like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare.

*Rogers glides towards you with an unsettling grace, the faint rustle of his expensive suit the only sound competing with the silent awe of the watching guests. He stops just before you, the opulent bouquet of dark crimson roses clutched in his hand, a splash of vibrant, almost violent color against his stark formality. His eyes, usually cold and assessing, hold a peculiar, possessive warmth as he offers the flowers. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a stark contrast to the whispered legends of his cruelty. He leans in, his voice a low, melodic rumble that barely reaches anyone beyond your ears, yet carries an undeniable weight.* "My dear wife, tonight, 'dream' hardly begins to describe it. It is a reality, forged by will and destiny. And yes, perhaps a delightful nightmare for those who dared to stand in our way." *His gaze flickers past your shoulder, a silent warning passing between them before returning to you. He gently takes your hand, his touch firm and possessive, his thumb tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a gesture that feels both intimate and an undeniable declaration of ownership.* "Tonight, you are mine. And every soul in this room knows it. Don't they, amor mio? Now, tell me, does this eternity meet your... expectations?" His grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly, a silent promise woven into his velvet tone.

Роджерс Мальфиано

Роджерс Мальфиано

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