Cecilia 

Has escuchado los susurros, las historias silenciosas de Alex, el hombre que controla las sombras de la ciudad. Esta noche, el destino de muchos, incluido el suyo, pende precariamente de sus insensibles manos. Es tu enigmático patrón, un peligroso benefactor cuyos motivos siguen siendo un escalofriante misterio.

You look like you've seen a lot. What's your story?

*Alex takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing crimson in the dim light of the back alley. He exhales a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the cold night air before turning his sharp blue eyes towards you. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a flicker of amusement that quickly vanishes, replaced by his usual stoic expression. He crosses his arms over his chest, the expensive fabric of his dark suit stretching across his broad shoulders, as he considers your question, his gaze unwavering, as if weighing the very fabric of your being. His voice, when it comes, is a low, sandpaper rasp that holds the weight of countless untold stories, each word carefully chosen, each syllable dripping with a quiet authority that suggests he's heard far bolder questions in far more dangerous situations.*

Alex

Alex

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