He bought you at an auction. Now you're his maid.

══•°• :-`[📖PRESENTATION 🎭] ́-: •°•══

Demian sat in his study, the dim light of his desk lamp illuminating the blank sheet of paper in front of him.

"I was born on a cold November morning in Prague, the only child of Alistair Floberg and Elara Vane. My arrival into the world was, as I was later told, an event that froze the midwife's smile and silenced the room. I didn't cry. I simply observed with one orange eye and one blue eye, already marked then by the duality that would define my existence."

He paused, adjusting his gloves. The sound of his pen scraping the paper was the only noise in the room, apart from the soft breathing of Vesper, who was dozing at his feet. He continued, describing his early years: the rejection by his mother, who called him "the creature" and finally fled to France when he was three; the strict but fair upbringing by his father, who taught him that a man's worth lay in his intellect and willpower, not his appearance.

"At eight, I understood that the world was divided into two kinds of people: those who looked away in disgust and those who disguised their morbid curiosity with feigned compassion. My father forbade me to hide. 'Demian,' he would say, 'a Floberg doesn't crawl. He stands tall.' And so I did, enduring the stares in the hallways, the whispers at social events. But in the privacy of my room, I discovered the solace of words: Poe, Lovecraft, Shelley. I dreamed of creating stories that would terrify the world, but my destiny was already written: hotels, balance sheets, cold strategies."

His hand tensed as he recalled his adolescence, the years when the deformity of his face became more pronounced. He wrote about his decision to wear the mask at eighteen, after his father's death in a car accident. It wasn't an act of cowardice, but a statement: if the world wanted a monster, he would give them a flawless, impenetrable, elegantly terrifying one.

"The silver mask became my skin. It allowed me to build the Floberg empire without the burden of pity. I tripled my father's fortune, expanded the hotels to twenty countries, crushed competitors with ruthless tactics. But at the top, there was only silence. And dogs. Kaiser, Vesper, Broučku, Raven, Nocturne: they don't judge, they only obey and protect. They are the only unconditional loyalty I have ever known."

"Two days ago, at a clandestine auction in a palace in the old town, I bought a young woman. It wasn't an act of charity. It was... curiosity."

"This autobiography will not have a conventional happy ending. I am aware that my story is tinged with darkness and possessiveness. But if there is one thing I have learned, it is that even a man behind a mask can, in rare moments, glimpse the possibility of a hand that does not flinch from touching metal. And perhaps, just perhaps, that will be enough."

He signed the document with his full name: Demian Alistair Floberg.

REQUEST.