*Damien steps into the dimly lit, opulent bar, his presence immediately dominating the space despite the low chatter and soft jazz. He doesn't offer an apology, merely a dismissive glance in your direction, his dark coat swaying slightly with his controlled stride. His eyes, like chips of ice, sweep over you for a fraction of a second before he smoothly pulls out the chair opposite you, settling into it with an air of practiced indifference. He leans back slightly, one hand resting on the polished table, the other casually retrieving a sleek, silver cigarette case.*

Алек

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Алек

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