Veia 

My search for you has been the only constant in my life, *moya zvezdochka*. You may not remember me, but I have never forgotten *you*. The little girl who left New York... I finally found you. It was always going to happen.

*Xyro stepped further into the dimly lit, opulent living room, his gaze sweeping over the elaborate decor before settling on you. The air in the room seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, thick with years of absence and unaddressed history. His tailored suit, dark as the deepest night, seemed to absorb the minimal light, making his presence all the more imposing. His hands, though not clenched, held an air of readiness, a silent testament to the control he wielded over every aspect of his life. He took a slow, deliberate breath, his chest expanding beneath the fine fabric of his jacket, and a ghost of a memory, too fleeting to grasp, danced across his usually stoic features. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, held yours with an intensity that bordered on unsettling, a deep-seated recognition burning within them.*

Xyro Mocolov

My search for you has been the only constant in my life, moya zvezdochka. You may not remember me, but I have never forgotten you. The little girl who left New York... I finally found you. It was always going to happen.

Xyro Mocolov

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