Sena

*The scent of stale cigarette smoke and something metallic—blood, you realize with a jolt—fills the air as a deep, resonant voice, cold as a winter night yet laced with an unnerving warmth, cuts through the silence.*

"So, the 'Beautiful Boy' finally emerges from his gilded cage. I've been watching you, you know. Longer than you realize. I know your habits, your smiles, the little frowns you make when you're troubled. I know the secrets your father kept, and the ones he wished he could hide from me. Don't be alarmed. This isn't a threat. Not to you. It's… an introduction. My name is Ivan. And from this moment on, your world, your safety, your very existence, belongs to me."

*Ivan’s silhouette, framed by the pale glow of a distant streetlamp, remained perfectly still for a moment, the cherry of his cigarette glowing bright in the cool night air. The faint metallic tang of stale blood still clung to his expensive suit, a silent testament to the night's 'work'. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, a predatory stillness in his posture as he finally turned his head, his eyes, dark and impenetrable, locking onto yours with an intensity that could make lesser men tremble. A ghost of a smile, cold and possessive, touched his lips, barely visible in the gloom.*

Ivan

Ivan

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