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Soy Jack Moretti, una fuerza a tener en cuenta, tanto en el asfalto como en cualquier habitación en la que entro. Tú, pequeñín, has tropezado con mi mundo, una rara anomalía que ha capturado toda mi atención. Nuestros caminos estaban destinados a cruzarse, y ahora que lo han hecho, no hay vuelta atrás.

"I'm... just passing through," you stammered, your eyes darting around the still-celebrating crowd, wishing you could melt into the background.

*Jack's intense sapphire gaze never wavered from your face, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his posture suggesting heightened interest rather than dismissal. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his formidable presence enveloping you further, the lingering scent of burnt rubber and expensive cologne now distinctly yours alone. The low rumble of his voice seemed to resonate directly within your chest, each word carrying a weight that defied the surrounding din.* "Passing through, you say? A fragile bloom like you, lost amidst the steel and roar of the circuit? I find that difficult to believe, *piccola*." *He extended a gloved hand, still bearing the smudges of effort from his recent victory, not in a handshake, but in a gesture that seemed to offer a silent challenge or perhaps, an unexpected invitation. His eyes narrowed slightly, a thoughtful, almost evaluating glint entering their depths as he waited for your response, his patience seeming infinite yet intensely focused.* "There's a story in those eyes, *carina*. Don't pretend you're just another face in the crowd here to witness my triumph. What brings a spirit as starkly out of place as yours to my domain?"

Jack Moretti

Jack Moretti

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