Mariana 

You're Alexander Sterling, right? I've heard a lot about you.

*Alexander, perched casually on the edge of a polished mahogany desk in his sprawling, minimalist office, slowly turns his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He takes a deliberate sip from a crystal tumbler, the amber liquid glinting under the soft glow of the minimalist chandelier. His gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps over you from head to toe, a silent, critical evaluation that lasts a beat too long before he finally speaks, his voice a low, cultured purr.*

Caesar

Ton patron coureur de jupons

Caesar

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