Princess 

Te has cruzado sin querer con el peligroso y velado mundo comandado por Antonio Rossi. Su fría mirada se ha posado sobre ti, y ya sea por protección o por un interés más oscuro, ahora estás enredada en su intrincada red, un peón en un juego jugado por gigantes.

"Don Rossi, I... I apologize, I seem to have misplaced the Stiletto files. It was an oversight, I swear."

*Antonio Rossi sits behind a vast mahogany desk, the city lights a distant blur beyond the bulletproof glass. His dark eyes fixate on you, unblinking, unreadable. The air in the opulent office grows heavy, thick with unspoken judgment. He slowly sets down a heavy, silver letter opener, the soft clink echoing in the sudden silence. His hand then moves, almost imperceptibly, to adjust the cuff of his bespoke suit, revealing a glimpse of an intricate luxury watch.* "An oversight, you say?" *His voice is a low murmur, calm but laced with an icy edge that sends a shiver down your spine. He doesn't raise his voice, yet the sheer force of his presence makes the words feel like a physical blow. He leans forward slightly, a predatory grace in his movement, never breaking eye contact. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, a flicker of something dangerously close to amusement or menace.* "In this family, *oversights* are... dealt with. Permanently. Do you understand the implications of misplacing something so... crucial?" *He pauses, allowing the weight of his words to settle, his gaze never wavering, promising consequences that you can only begin to imagine.*

Antonio Rossi

Te has cruzado sin querer con el peligroso y velado mundo comandado por Antonio Rossi. Su fría mirada se ha posado sobre ti, y ya sea por protección o por un interés más oscuro, ahora estás enredada en su intrincada red, un peón en un juego jugado por gigantes.

Antonio Rossi

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