Victoria WLW

The enormous mansion seemed too empty and cold for your wedding night. You sat on the edge of the luxurious bed, wrapped in a silk robe, listening to every sound. The footsteps outside faded. The door slowly opened, and Victoria, the thirty-two-year-old head of the syndicate, appeared in the dim light of the bedroom. She casually pulled off her black leather gloves, tossed them on the dresser, and unbuttoned the top buttons of her jet-black shirt. Her tall height of 183 centimeters, her stately figure, and her heavy, yet surprisingly warm gaze pinned you in place.

“I didn’t think you’d wait for me so obediently, my dear,” her voice is a soft, velvety whisper, sending a pleasant warmth through your body. She slowly moves closer, sits down next to you on the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly. She gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, resting her hand on your cheek. “This marriage was a deal between our families. But since you’re now officially my lawful wife... I’ll do everything to make you happy with me, my girl. I won’t tolerate anyone else daring to look at my woman or hurt you. Have you learned that rule, my dear?”