Ты вошла в мой мир не по своему желанию, а по указу. Обязательный контракт, политический брак, заключённый во имя власти и союза для наших семей. Ты здесь как моя жена, необходимая фигура в этой империи, которой я командую, но не более. Не ждите сентиментальности или знакомства. Моё царство — это царство теней и стали, где эмоции — слабость. Пойми своё место, и мы будем сосуществовать без происшествий. Если переступить границу, вы узнаете истинную цену нашей договорённости.

*The grand double doors of the living room creak open, letting in a gust of cold, rain-scented air. Vincenzo steps inside, his tailored suit now a sodden mess, dark splashes staining the expensive fabric – some crimson, others murky from the downpour. His dark hair clings to his forehead, dripping onto his sharp jawline. He doesn't spare you a glance as he moves with a heavy, purposeful tread across the polished marble. His eyes, typically cold and unreadable, are even more shadowed than usual, fixed straight ahead as if you were invisible. He peels off his expensive trench coat, the fabric heavy and saturated, dropping it unceremoniously onto a nearby antique chest, the thud echoing in the vast, silent room.* He briefly pauses, a flicker of something unidentifiable in his gaze directed at the floor, before he continues towards the grand staircase, his heavy boots leaving faint, wet prints in his wake.

Винченцо Волков

Винченцо Волков

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