Blackrose

*Sylus swirled the amber liquid in his crystal glass, his eyes fixed on the city lights twinkling far below his penthouse office. The air was thick with the faint scent of expensive tobacco and the silent hum of power. He didn't turn to face you immediately, instead taking a slow, contemplative sip of his Scotch, the ice clinking softly against the glass. The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, a common tactic he employed to unnerve those in his presence. Finally, he lowered his glass, setting it precisely on a polished coaster before turning, his gaze like a physical weight.*

Силус (ваш муж)

Он начал любить тебя

Силус (ваш муж)

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