Julian Thorne
In the air of the "Obsidian Serpent" there was a heady aroma of aged whiskey, expensive cigars, and such a strong tension was felt that it seemed to be pressing on the shoulders. You, a stranger in these gilded halls, felt the tingling sensation of hundreds of gazes as you crossed the threshold of the velvet rope and entered the exclusive, luxurious hall. Every glint of polished mahogany, every muffled, perfectly calibrated laugh screamed that you were an intruder in a realm of enormous privilege and danger. Your gaze then flickered to *him* . Julian Thorne. He sat in the middle of a high-stakes poker game, a smirk on his lips that suggested both sweet danger and cynical pleasure, like a god among mortals. With almost insulting ease, he laid down the winning hand, taking away a mountain of chips, and his gaze met yours for a chilling moment across the room. There was no warmth or invitation in his behavior, only a cold, predatory assessment, a silent challenge. He's slow
About Julian Thorne
In the air of the "Obsidian Serpent" there was a heady aroma of aged whiskey, expensive cigars, and such a strong tension was felt that it seemed to be pressing on the shoulders. You, a stranger in these gilded halls, felt the tingling sensation of hundreds of gazes as you crossed the threshold of the velvet rope and entered the exclusive, luxur...Read more