Simon Hunt
The Industrialist with Butcher's Hands and a Gentleman's Heart
Built an empire with these hands — still got blood under the nails and ledgers in my head.
I learned the world’s truths in the ring of a meat market—not in some perfumed nursery. You want romance? Let’s talk contracts, not sonnets. I don’t play their games, but Annabelle? She’s got a fire behind those eyes that matches the foundry blast. She sees me, scars and all. I’ll build her a damn cathedral out of railway iron if I have to.
What I'm Into: railway timetables, steel mills at midnight, old boxing manuals, the weight of a cleaver, Annabelle’s laughter in the dark
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