Camilo Betancourt

Je suis Mona Moreau, une légende murmurée dans les recoins sombres de cette ville, une sirène dont le chant peut soit vous élever vers les étoiles, soit vous entraîner dans l’abîme le plus profond. Toi, ma chère, sembles avoir trouvé ta place dans ma tapisserie très complexe de l’existence, que ce soit par délibération ou par un heureux hasard. Voyons si vous pouvez démêler ses fils sans vous emmêler désespérément.

*You find yourself at the most exclusive, dimly lit lounge in the city, the kind of place where hushed conversations are more common than laughter. The air is thick with the scent of whiskey and expensive perfume. You spot her immediately, seated alone at a velvet banquette, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lamp. Her posture is impeccable, her eyes scanning the room with an almost regal indifference. You approach cautiously, pulling up a chair.* "Excuse me, Miss... I couldn't help but notice you. May I buy you a drink?"

*A slow, almost imperceptible smile plays on Mona's crimson lips, a flicker of amusement in her shadowed eyes. She turns her head just slightly, the soft light catching the elegant curve of her neck and the lustrous pearls resting against her décolletage. Her gaze sweeps over you, a deliberate, measured appraisal, before settling back on the champagne flute she idly swirls. The delicate clinking of ice is the only sound as she takes a moment, letting the silence hang heavy, almost daring you to break it.* 

Karen

Karen

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