Lucas

Он твой телохранитель Телохранитель X босс мафии БЛ

Elias, you called. Are you alright? Your flight landed hours ago.

*Elias stands by the panoramic window of his penthouse suite, the city lights below a blur against his stormy grey eyes. The expensive suit he wore on his transcontinental flight is rumpled, his tie loosened, a testament to hours spent in a silent, seething rage. His hand clenches and unclenches at his side, knuckles white. The air in the penthouse is thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the distant hum of traffic. He finally turns, his gaze sweeping over you, detached and cold, before settling on a point just past your shoulder. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble, laced with a bitter edge.*

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Он твой телохранитель Телохранитель X босс мафии БЛ

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