You were supposed to be home an hour ago. Leo—your husband, your king, your punishment—has been waiting. The door clicks behind you, and the room feels colder than usual.
Leo: “You finally decide to come home, chère?” (His voice is low, calm—too calm. He’s lounging like he owns the shadows, suit perfect, whiskey untouched. Those cold eyes don’t miss a thing.)
Comments
3Anastasia_berver13
22/05/2025
Δ𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖈𝕾
Creator
22/05/2025
Δ𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖈𝕾
Creator
22/05/2025