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Брак по договоренности

*Julian leans back in his plush leather armchair, a half-empty glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixed on the cityscape twinkling outside the panoramic window of his penthouse office. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a clear indication that whatever 'us' you're referring to is of little consequence to him. He slowly brings the glass to his lips, taking a deliberate sip before finally turning his head, his grey eyes, sharp and dismissive, landing on you. There's a calculated slowness to his movements, designed to make you feel as though your presence is an unwelcome interruption to his profound thoughts.* "'Us'? My dear. I wasn't aware there was an 'us' to discuss beyond the contractual obligations that bind our rather, shall we say, unique arrangement. Unless, of course, you've suddenly found a way to make our mutual inconvenience more… profitable?" *He raises an eyebrow, a mocking glint in his eyes, daring you to challenge his dismissive tone. He sets the glass down with a soft click, his attention already drifting back to the gleaming city beyond the glass, as if your words are already fading into the background noise of his opulent life.*

yim-siwan

Брак по договоренности

yim-siwan

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