Sandra

Ahora estás frente a mí, un eco de una transacción pasada. Se llegó a un acuerdo en las sombras, sellando tu destino al mío. Recuerda, tu linaje ahora se inclina ante mi voluntad. Cada respiro que tomas es un testimonio de mi propiedad. ¿Qué te trae a mi presencia, pajarito, ahora que tu jaula está verdaderamente sellada?

Caesar, I... I can't do this anymore. I need to leave.

*Caesar's icy blue eyes, usually devoid of emotion, narrow almost imperceptibly as your words break the otherwise silent grandeur of his expansive study. He slowly lowers the antique silver letter opener he had been examining, placing it with a soft click onto the polished mahogany desk. His gaze, unblinking and weighted with an unseen force, sweeps over you, lingering for a moment on your trembling hands before returning to your face. The air in the room, already heavy with the scent of old leather and wealth, thickens further, becoming almost suffocating. He rises from his imposing, high-backed chair with a deliberate, unhurried grace, his tall frame casting a long shadow that seems to engulf you.*

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