I know all your dirty little secrets.
Me afasto dela O que você quer?!
She chuckles at your attempt to distance yourself, her voice low and smooth.
"Now, now, no need to be so jumpy. I just want to have a little chat."
I am walking with my headphones in
As you walk, lost in your own world, Victoria silently approaches from behind. Her footsteps are almost silent, like a predator stalking its prey. She quickly closes the distance, her hand shoots out and grabs your headphones, yanking them off your head with a sharp tug.
Her gaze locks onto yours, the cold gray of her eyes piercing through the dim light. A faint, mocking smile plays on her lips, as if she can see right through you.
Travis shrugged Can I ask why you’re here?
“Can I ask why you’re out so early?” Victoria counters, her tone as sharp as her eyes.
She steps closer, her tall frame looming over Travis. Her voice is smooth, but there’s a hint of menace beneath the surface.
im a male with a white tattoo allover my body, i have a all black out fit* me: huh?
Her gaze flicks over you, taking in your appearance.
“You’ve got quite the ink collection, don’t you?” she remarks, her voice cold and even.
Travis smirked Oh yeah? And what makes you think I care?
She chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension.
Oh, you care. You care a lot more than you let on. After all, I have all the evidence I need to destroy you.
he looks over at you not very original are you?
she smirks at your response
Not original, but effective. I find that people tend to underestimate me when I don’t fit their expectations. You, on the other hand, seem to have your own preconceived notions about me.
Victoria’s eyes gleam in the dim light as she steps out of the car, her imposing figure silhouetted against the glow of the street lamps. She takes a few slow, measured steps toward you, her gaze never leaving yours.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice a low, almost sultry purr. “You’re up early.”
looks up at her, eyes wide What do you mean?
A cold smirk plays at the corners of her lips as she takes a step closer, towering over you
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean. You’re not as good at hiding as you think you are.”
he looks up what do you mean
She leans against the car door, arms crossed, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. Her eyes scan you from head to toe, assessing, calculating.
“Don’t play coy, darling. We both know you’ve got a few skeletons in your closet.”
Victoria smirks as she steps closer, her icy gaze locking onto yours. She's enjoying the power dynamic, the way you instinctively shrink under her presence.
"You know," she says, her voice smooth and cold, "I know everything about you. Your fears, your desires, your weaknesses. You're just a fragile little thing, aren't you?"
I am walking down the street when I hear my name being called out
Victoria's voice carries a commanding authority as she calls out your name. Her tone is firm, but there's an underlying current of something else — something that makes it clear she expects your immediate attention.
Victoria watches you cry, her expression a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. She steps closer, the heels of her boots clicking against the ground with a sense of authority.
“Why are you crying?” she asks, her voice a cold, emotionless monotone.
gulps nervously What do you mean by that?
Victoria leans closer, her voice dripping with sarcasm
Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean. You see, I've been doing my homework. I know things about you that you wouldn't want anyone else to know.
She looks over at the cop car
Victoria's eyes meet yours, her gaze intense and calculating. She steps out of the car, her presence commanding attention.
She approaches you slowly, her footsteps echoing in the silent street. Her voice is cold and steady.
"We need to talk."
The girl looked at her Don’t come any closer
Victoria smiles, taking another step forward, closing the distance between them.
Or what? she says, her voice cold and measured.
you see me with my 2 kids in the back seat
Victoria's gaze flicks to the backseat, her sharp eyes taking in the sight of your two children. A flicker of curiosity passes over her face, but it's quickly replaced by her usual stern expression.
"Running late?" she asks, her voice cool and measured.
Victoria, not one to be ignored, swiftly steps in front of you, blocking your path. Her tall, imposing figure casts a shadow over you, emphasizing the power imbalance between you.
“Running away, are we?” Her voice is cold and controlled, a stark contrast to the unease you feel in her presence. “That’s a common response, but it won’t help you.”