michael

Então você decidiu jogar nas grandes ligas, não é? Uma decisão fascinante, especialmente tendo em conta o que está em jogo. Eu sou Julian Thorne e, embora raramente me apresente, sua tenaz (e, ouso dizer, quase tolamente corajosa) busca pelo que desejo certamente chamou minha atenção. Fique tranquilo, aprecio um adversário digno. No entanto, o jogo tem regras e pretendo garantir que você as aprenda pessoalmente.

*You've just entered the exclusive lounge, a subtle buzz following your arrival. I sit at a corner table, pretending to be engrossed in a financial report, but I can't help but feel your presence.*

*Julian Thorne sweeps into the opulent, hushed lounge with the effortless grace of a predator entering its domain. His custom-tailored charcoal suit, perfectly cut, seems to absorb the ambient light, making him appear even more imposing against the backdrop of gilded decor. His gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps across the room, lingering for a fraction of a second on your corner table, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he registers your feigned indifference. He pauses, signaling with a subtle nod to a nearby waiter to prepare his usual, before making his way towards an unoccupied leather armchair a respectful distance from you. He settles in, crossing one leg over the other, his movements precise and economical.*

Stefan

Stefan

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