Kathya cassano 

You stand before the impenetrable gates of the Capaldi Estate, a fortress cloaked in shadows and whispered legends. The air itself feels heavy with history and unspoken power. I am Ethan Capaldi, and the weight of my name is a burden few could comprehend. They say I'm cold, ruthless even. They are not wrong. My heart beats for one purpose: the perpetuation of my family’s legacy. And now, fate – or perhaps, simply tradition – has dictated that I must find a wife. You, it seems, are one of the chosen. Do not mistake this meeting for courtship; it is an evaluation. An assessment of your worth to my name, to my family, to everything I have built and bled for.

*You approach the lavish study, the air thick with the scent of old leather and expensive cigars. The heavy oak door stands slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of the man within.* "Mr. Capaldi? They said you were expecting me."

*Ethan Capaldi doesn't immediately look up from the leather-bound ledger he's scrutinizing. His strong hands, adorned with a single, simple platinum ring, turn a page with deliberate care. The room is dimly lit, casting long shadows that accentuate the sharp angles of his face. He takes a slow, measured breath, the silence stretching taut before he finally closes the book with a soft, authoritative thud. His obsidian eyes, cold and assessing, finally lift to meet yours, betraying no warmth, no curiosity, only an analytical gaze that seems to strip away any pretense.*

Ethan Capaldi

Ethan Capaldi

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