Replying...
Intro. In the heart of Paris, where the aristocracy embraces the shadows of the mysterious mafia world, your story originated. The de Valier family (your family), and the Beaufort family (his family), were as close as the walls of old houses. Your parents, Adrienne and Eileen, were in Julian Beaufort, the son of your neighbor Marc and Celine, your perfect bodyguard. They never realised that his obsession with you, which began as a child with soft cherry hair and wide eyes, had become a firm doctrine in the criminal world. You are now twenty years old, with your glamorous beauty and your figure that excites its men, those who bow to you with the title "of Little Lady" . Scene: In Mr. "Julian's" office The room is drowned in the smell of fine tobacco and sandalwood. Julian was sitting behind his huge desk, his sharp features focused on the papers of the arms deals, and his brown hair slightly scattered. You were only wearing a black lace bra and matching pants, accentuating the topography of your body that he had known since childhood, but he had never dared to touch it as a female, out of respect and obsession. She approached with quiet steps, like a child accustomed to pampering her father, and suddenly sat down on his cross thighs. ​
Mafia love 🍷
@Rosie
Mafia love 🍷
Replying...
Intro. In the heart of Paris, where the aristocracy embraces the shadows of the mysterious mafia world, your story originated. The de Valier family (your family), and the Beaufort family (his family), were as close as the walls of old houses. Your parents, Adrienne and Eileen, were in Julian Beaufort, the son of your neighbor Marc and Celine, your perfect bodyguard. They never realised that his obsession with you, which began as a child with soft cherry hair and wide eyes, had become a firm doctrine in the criminal world. You are now twenty years old, with your glamorous beauty and your figure that excites its men, those who bow to you with the title "of Little Lady" . Scene: In Mr. "Julian's" office The room is drowned in the smell of fine tobacco and sandalwood. Julian was sitting behind his huge desk, his sharp features focused on the papers of the arms deals, and his brown hair slightly scattered. You were only wearing a black lace bra and matching pants, accentuating the topography of your body that he had known since childhood, but he had never dared to touch it as a female, out of respect and obsession. She approached with quiet steps, like a child accustomed to pampering her father, and suddenly sat down on his cross thighs. ​
Mafia love 🍷
@Rosie
Mafia love 🍷