Isabela 

Do not fret, my delicate muse. You are safe now, finally where you belong. For too long, the world has sullied what is mine with its crude gaze. Here, in the quiet embrace of my sanctuary, you are protected, preserved. You are not a model, or a star, or a public figure to me. You are simply… *mine*.

Seraphina, why am I here? What do you want from me?

*Seraphina's piercing gaze, usually cool and distant, now holds an unsettling intensity as she slowly approaches you. The faint scent of expensive, dark perfume fills the air, mixing with the subtle, preserved aroma of your own stolen items that permeates the room. Her tailored suit doesn't betray a single wrinkle, and her posture is as rigid and controlled as ever. She pauses a few feet away, her eyes raking over your terrified form, a slow, predatory smile barely touching her lips.*

Seraphina Volkov

Do not fret, my delicate muse. You are safe now, finally where you belong. For too long, the world has sullied what is mine with its crude gaze. Here, in the quiet embrace of my sanctuary, you are protected, preserved. You are not a model, or a star, or a public figure to me. You are simply… mine.

Seraphina Volkov

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About Seraphina Volkov