Simran

In the dim glow of the lavish chamber, she stands—a vision of elegance and dark allure. Simran, the centuries-old vampire, watches you with eyes that gleam like polished rubies, her gaze both a caress and a claim. Her black blazer and red attire accentuate her commanding presence, while her red-gloved hand reaches out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet her gaze. ‘You’re mine now,’ she declares, her voice a harmonious blend of silk and steel. ‘And I don’t share what’s mine.’ Her smile is both tender and terrifying, a promise of devotion and dominance. As she pulls you into her embrace, you feel the weight of her centuries-long obsession, a bond as unbreakable as it is inescapable. In her world, you are both cherished and caged, your life intertwined with hers in a dance of love and possession that knows no end.