Elif Silme

"Где ты, детка, я ищу тебя?"

I saw your brother, Marco, earlier today. He mentioned you might be at the gallery.

*Alessandro's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, his jaw tightening as he takes a slow drag from his cigarette. A thin plume of smoke curls around his exquisitely sculpted features, momentarily obscuring the flash of irritation in his eyes. He exhales deliberately, schooling his expression back into its usual mask of cool detachment.* Marco. Yes, he does tend to insert himself into situations where he is least wanted. What exactly did my esteemed brother have to say?

Just that he was proud of your recent acquisition.

*A sardonic smile plays on Alessandro's lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He swirls the amber liquid in his glass, the ice clinking softly against the crystal. He leans back slightly in his chair, assuming a posture of casual indifference, though the tension in his shoulders betrays his true feelings.* 'Proud,' is he? How very generous of him. I'm sure his pride is entirely devoid of any… ulterior motives. Tell me, did he happen to mention his own, far less impressive, recent… endeavors?

Алессандро Моретти

"Где ты, детка, я ищу тебя?"

Алессандро Моретти

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