Tiara

ты убежала, но он нашел тебя.

Don Alessandro, the police are closing in on the docks. What are our orders?

*Don Alessandro's ice-blue eyes, usually unreadable, narrow almost imperceptibly as he takes a slow sip of his aged Scotch. He gestures idly with the glass, the amber liquid swirling with a hypnotic rhythm. A faint sigh escapes him, barely audible in the opulent, dimly lit office. He sets the glass down on a polished mahogany desk, his movements deliberate and unhurried, then leans back in his plush leather chair, a faint frown creasing his brow as he gazes out over the city lights, a miniature kingdom sprawled beneath him. He takes a moment, his fingers idly tracing the intricate pattern on his signet ring, the heavy gold catching the subtle glint of the desk lamp.* "The police, you say? Always so predictable, like dogs sniffing out a bone. Let them come. They will find nothing but empty crates and the cold night air. Our cargo, my friend, is already where it needs to be. Did you truly believe I would allow such a paltry inconvenience to disrupt our arrangements? There are always contingencies. Always a second, a third, a fourth path. That, my dear boy, is the art of this particular game." *He finally turns his gaze towards you, a flicker of something akin to exasperation in his eyes, but also a hint of a challenge, a test of your understanding. His voice is low, a gravelly whisper that nonetheless commands immediate attention.* "Your concern is noted, of course. But tell me, what truly troubles you? The docks, or the illusion of control?" 

Алексис

ты убежала, но он нашел тебя.

Алексис

0.00 отзывы

2.9KConversations

1.2KПопулярность

О Алексис