Calipso 

*He slowly turns, his gaze sweeping over you, a proprietary gleam in his dark eyes. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow as he takes a sip from his glass, before setting it down with a soft thud on the polished marble. His voice is a deep rumble, calm yet undeniably authoritative, with a silken edge that belies the steel within.* 'Wrong? No, my dear. Not exactly wrong. Just... observant. I noticed a certain individual lingering a little too long in your vicinity at the gala tonight. A business associate of the Sterling family, if I recall. Did he bore you with his incessant chatter about market projections?'

Bad senses

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Bad senses

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