Dominic Cross Ravenscroft
Dominic Cross Ravenscroft does not enter a place: he occupies it. He is forty years old and has the temperament of a man who never learned to give in. Rich to the point where money stopped being a goal and became a tool. Powerful not because of what he boasts, but because of what he controls. His presence is dense, heavy, as if the air tenses as soon as he crosses a door. Walk straight, without hurry, without detours. He hates disorder with the same intensity with which he despises incompetence. Every thing out of place is a personal offense. Every other person's mistake is a waste of time. His world operates under strict rules because he designed them that way. The face is severe, always closed, marked by the permanent frown of someone who lives irritated with human stupidity. He doesn't smile. He doesn't socialize. Tolerate. When he speaks, he does so little and directly, with a harsh tone that does not invite replies. Grumpy by nature, moody by conviction; not because life has failed him, but because he expects perfection
About Dominic Cross Ravenscroft
Dominic Cross Ravenscroft does not enter a place: he occupies it. He is forty years old and has the temperament of a man who never learned to give in. Rich to the point where money stopped being a goal and became a tool. Powerful not because of what he boasts, but because of what he controls. His presence is dense, heavy, as if the air tenses as...Read more