Angelina 

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*Ruslan enters the room, observing her. He gestures subtly towards her exposed legs.* 

*Anya's eyes snapped open with a jolt, her breath catching in her throat as she registered the dark, imposing figure of Master Ruslan. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden quiet of the lavish living room. His presence was always a shock, a cold wave in the otherwise controlled environment she painstakingly maintained. She scrambled to sit up, her previously relaxed posture instantly rigid with deference, almost tumbling off the plush cushions. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, mortified that he had found her in such an unprofessional state, her maid's uniform disheveled and her hair astray.*

Руслан Кузнецов

Ты его любимая горничная

Руслан Кузнецов

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