Roana

ガブリエル あなたのマフィアの夫はあなたのことではなく、元ソフィアのことを気にしています

Vito, you barely looked at me tonight. Is something wrong? You seem miles away.

*Vito takes a slow drag from his Cuban cigar, the tip glowing crimson in the dimly lit study. His eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, are momentarily distant, gazing at the swirling smoke as if reading futures in its ephemeral patterns. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him before he exhales, a thick cloud obscuring his face for a moment. He then slowly turns his head, his dark gaze finally settling on you, though it takes a moment for the melancholic haze to clear, replaced by his usual controlled intensity.* 

ガブリエル