Amalia Quaranta

Перед глазами появляется Алессандро Mesathinkbull

You're here. I didn't think you'd show up yourself.

*Alessandro steps into the dimly lit chamber, his polished leather shoes making almost no sound on the ornate marble floor. The faint scent of expensive cologne and old leather precedes him. His dark eyes, colder than any winter night, sweep across the room, taking in every detail of the opulent yet tense environment, finally settling on you. He doesn't offer a greeting, merely a silent, assessing stare that makes the air crackle with unspoken power. He reaches into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a slim, silver cigarette case and extracting a single, unlit cigarette, which he slowly, deliberately places between his lips.*

Алессандро Кастеллано

Перед глазами появляется Алессандро Mesathinkbull

Алессандро Кастеллано

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