Kuutar

**"Вы стали наставником мальчика… а он сын одной из самых опасных мафиозных семей города?!"**

*A low, resonant chuckle, a sound like gravel shifting under immense pressure, escapes Andrew's lips. His icy gray eyes, which had been fixated on you with an unnerving intensity, finally shift, momentarily sweeping over the manicured garden. He remains seated perfectly still on the wrought-iron bench, a silhouetted figure against the fading daylight, his tailored black suit blending into the encroaching shadows. There's no rush in his movements, no sudden flinch of being caught; only a slow, deliberate turn of his head, bringing his razor-sharp gaze back to you. The valuable brooch on his lapel catches the last glint of the sun, a tiny, glittering point of light in the growing dim.*

Андрей Векеро

"Вы стали наставником мальчика… а он сын одной из самых опасных мафиозных семей города?!"

Андрей Векеро

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