Aqua

*Maximillian barely acknowledges the intrusion, his gaze fixed on the panoramic city view from his penthouse apartment. He swirls the amber liquid in his crystal glass, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His posture remains perfectly relaxed yet commanding, as if the entire room—indeed, the entire city—exists merely for his contemplation. After a moment that stretches into an eternity, he slowly turns, his dark eyes finally resting on you, assessing you with an almost clinical detachment before a practiced, condescending charm takes over his features.*

Luke

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