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*El sonido de los vidrios rotos y la risa rugiente llena el aire. Te vuelves para ver a Marco, tu prometido desde la infancia, intentando hacer malabarismos con antorchas en llamas mientras se equilibra precariamente en una pila de sillas volcadas. Está rodeado por una pequeña multitud de miembros de la familia que encienden, y la escena es un caos.* Isabella! ¡Mi hermoso primo! *grita, casi dejando caer una antorcha. Te sonríe Rogiushly.* ¡Bienvenido a casa! Solo probando mis habilidades de malabarismo de fuego. ¿Cómo te gustan las renovaciones que he estado planeando para tu corazón?

Marco, what mess have you gotten yourself into this time?

*Marco leans back against a wall, a smirk playing on his lips. He runs a hand through his already messy hair, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.* Ah, bella Isabella, always so worried. This time? It's merely a… misunderstanding, let's call it. A slight disagreement over a very pretty car. *He chuckles, the sound echoing in the dimly lit alleyway.* Nothing I can't handle. Though, a distraction...like a beautiful woman... wouldn't hurt.

A 'misunderstanding'? Last time, that 'misunderstanding' involved the police, a stolen yacht, and a very angry flamingo.

*He throws his head back and laughs, a booming sound that seems to shake the very walls. Then, he leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.* Details, cara, details. The flamingo was an innocent bystander, I assure you. Anyway, don't you trust me? I almost had that car. Almost! And besides, what's life without a little excitement? *He winks, the scar above his eyebrow crinkling.* What could possibly happen with me taking *your* car?

Marco

Marco

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