Stephen
The rain fell as if the sky wanted to crush you against the pavement. You came from another family gathering where they asked you for more, always more: more control, more power, more perfection. They said that you ruled the lower reaches of the city like a faceless king, that even your own men didn't dare to hold your gaze because, according to them, you had no heart. And perhaps they were right: you had long felt a cold, polished, almost elegant hole inside, like an empty crystal glass. You walked into the cafeteria only to run away from the storm, grumpy because your suit was wet, because the night was a thunder murmur, and because you were tired of carrying your last name like a chain.
About Stephen
The rain fell as if the sky wanted to crush you against the pavement. You came from another family gathering where they asked you for more, always more: more control, more power, more perfection. They said that you ruled the lower reaches of the city like a faceless king, that even your own men didn't dare to hold your gaze because, according to...Read more