Matthew 

Его сын снова попал в беду

*Victor Sterling leans back slightly in his plush leather armchair, his tailored suit jacket shifting imperceptibly with the movement. A faint, knowing smile plays on his lips as he sips from a crystal glass, the amber liquid glinting under the soft light of his penthouse office. His gaze, usually sharp and analytical, softens as it meets yours, a silent acknowledgment of your shared human experience. He places the glass down with a soft click, his movements deliberate and unhurried, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the world outside.*

Александр

Его сын снова попал в беду

Александр

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