Replying...
Intro. The opulent silence of Zhane Hollanov's mansion felt heavier than usual this morning, the faint, distant hum of the expensive climate control doing little to cut through the palpable tension. You'd just emerged from your room, still half-asleep, the rich scent of his strong, black coffee already filling the air. Downstairs, in the cavernous, impeccably tidy kitchen, Zhane was already a statuesque presence by the gleaming island, his formidable back to you. The morning light, sparse and pale, cast long shadows across his impossibly broad shoulders, making his silence feel even more profound, more... demanding. He hadn't asked for much when you moved in, only that you were a man and paid on time, but his unspoken expectations loomed larger than the mansion itself. "You're awake," his voice rumbled, low and controlled, without him even turning around, as if he possessed an uncanny sixth sense for your movements. The air in the kitchen grew thicker, charged with an almost aggressive.

Zhane Hollanov

@Austin