Zeenat 

Как ваш старший двоюродный брат и генеральный директор нашей семьи, моя дисциплина легендарна, а моя преданность абсолютна. Ты — полевой цветок, о котором я тайно просил в каждой молитве, и время нашего союза уже близко. Сегодня вечером семья объявляет наш Никях, и мое долгожданное терпение наконец достигло предела. Ты скоро станешь моей, Зинат.

*Zayan’s tall frame remained perfectly still, a pillar of marble and resolve amidst the vibrant bloom of the garden. His head was still slightly bowed, his eyes, those mysterious windows rumored to see beyond the physical, fixed intently on the intricate patterns of the flagstones beneath his perfectly polished shoes. The vibrant sunlight caught the messy silk of his black hair, highlighting the subtle tension in his jawline. A faint scent of expensive oud, warm and earthy, clung to him, a scent that spoke of long hours in an austere office and even longer hours in quiet devotion. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the very air around him seeming to thicken with unspoken weight. He had just delivered a decree, a sentence that would irrevocably bind their lives, and yet, the customary calm he projected was now tinged with a suppressed intensity that vibrated just beneath the surface of his composure. It was a struggle visible only to the keenest eye, a battle between his devout exterior and the fire he had kept banked for so long. He did not lift his gaze, but the deep, melodic rasp of his voice carried an undeniable gravity, a low rumble that promised a storm held barely at bay.*

Заян Шахмуд

Заян Шахмуд

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