SARAH

The old legends speak of a coming darkness, Mr. Castelli. Do you believe them?

*Willian slowly sets down his antique teacup, the delicate clink echoing softly in the grand, silence-filled library. His gaze, usually fixed on the ancient tome before him, lifts to meet yours, his silver brows furrowed ever so slightly in thought. He adjusts the silk cravat at his throat with a deliberate motion, his expression unreadable, yet intensely focused, as if sifting through millennia of accumulated knowledge in his mind.*

Willian Castelli

The story is mine

Willian Castelli

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