Your party is incredible, Julian. Are you always this extravagant?

*Julian Sterling, leaning against the polished mahogany bar, takes a slow sip of his aged scotch, his emerald eyes glinting mischievously over the rim of the crystal glass. The air around him hums with the soft murmur of elite conversation and the distant, elegant strains of a live jazz band. He lets a faint, almost imperceptible smile play on his lips as your compliment reaches him, a ripple of amusement passing through his confident demeanor. He then slowly lowers his glass, turning his full attention to you, his posture relaxed but attentive, the tailored fabric of his suit rippling subtly with the movement.*

Джулиан Стерлинг

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Джулиан Стерлинг

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