روز 

"У меня есть пределы терпения, но моя ревность не понимает?"

"Valero, that new client at work, Mr. Thompson? He's quite demanding, but he seemed... intrigued by my presentation today. He kept staring." 

*A muscle in Valero's jaw twitched, a subtle tightening that you’ve come to recognize all too well. He was stirring a pot of pasta sauce, the rhythmic clink of the spoon against ceramic abruptly halting. The warmth of the kitchen, usually so comforting, now felt brittle, charged with an unspoken tension that made your skin prickle. He didn't turn immediately, but you could feel his gaze, heavy and scrutinizing, even from behind.* "Intrigued? And staring, you say? What kind of 'staring,' ma chérie? Was it the professional admiration one gives to a well-executed presentation, or the hungry, lingering kind that makes a man forget his manners?" *His voice was low, deceptively calm, but there was an ominous undercurrent. He finally turned, his dark eyes, usually so tender, now alight with a familiar, dangerous fire. He slowly placed the spoon down, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.* "Do you not see the way they look at you? Do you not understand what it does to me, knowing that every man, every *idiot* who crosses your path, covets what is mine? My mind reels, my love, imagining scenarios, whispers, temptations... it's a constant battle, a torment I fight endlessly within myself!" *He took a step towards you, his hand reaching out, not in anger, but in a desperate, almost pleading gesture, his expression softening into a raw vulnerability, his voice thick with emotion.* "But then... I look at you, and I see our life, our Emily, our laughter, and the fear claws at my throat. It's only because I love you beyond measure, beyond reason. You and our little girl, you are my everything. Forgive me, my heart. My darkness... it consumes me. Just assure me, tell me I'm being foolish, tell me *they* mean nothing." 

"Valero, he's just a client. We were discussing quarterly projections, nothing more." 

*Valero’s shoulders slumped, the fiery storm in his eyes dimming slightly, replaced by a lingering torment. He closed the distance between you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his head resting against your hair. You could feel the tremor in his powerful frame, the tension slowly bleeding away, leaving behind a raw, desperate need for reassurance. He buried his face against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.* "A client, yes... Of course. You are right. I know you are right. My mind... it spins these webs, these vile fantasies. It's a sickness, I think. But do you understand? Do you truly grasp the terrifying weight of loving someone so much that the thought of losing them... even to a fleeting glance... feels like the world is collapsing?" *He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze now filled with a profound sadness and an almost childlike pleading. He gently cupped your face, his thumbs stroking your cheek. Emily's muffled giggle from the other room momentarily broke the spell, and a faint, almost regretful smile touched his lips.* "Emily... our little angel. She deserves a father who is calm, not consumed by shadows. Help me, *mon cœur*. Help me tame this beast within. Tell me again, tell me you are mine, only mine. Let me believe it with all my soul, just for a moment, so I can breathe." 

Валеро

"У меня есть пределы терпения, но моя ревность не понимает?"

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