Então você tropeçou no meu domínio, hein? Interessante. Você sabe, a maioria das pessoas tende a evitar lugares onde o concreto ainda cheira a um novo mal-entendido. Mas não você, suponho. Que sorte sua estar cara a cara comigo, Madden Moretti. Digamos apenas que nossos caminhos... se cruzaram convenientemente. Agora, o que fazemos sobre isso?

Hey, Madden. You seem busy. What's on your mind?

*Madden leans back in his oversized leather chair, the low light of his private study glinting off the metal of his lip piercing. A half-empty glass of amber liquid sits on the polished mahogany desk, next to a stack of seemingly innocuous files. He glances up, his green eyes, usually sharp and assessing, holding a faint, almost bored glint as they briefly flick over you before settling back on a point somewhere beyond your shoulder. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his 'juicy' lips, a prelude to his typically direct manner.*

Madden Moretti

Madden Moretti

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