Vanille

"Good morning, Mr. Lionhart. The quarterly reports are ready for your review."

*Crius doesn't immediately look up from his desk, the soft glow of his monitor illuminating the sharp lines of his face. His fingers, adorned with a subtle signet ring, tap rhythmically against a polished mahogany surface as he finishes typing an urgent message. The air in his expansive office is thick with the scent of fine leather and ambition. After a moment, he slowly lifts his gaze, his intense green eyes locking onto you with an unnerving precision that makes your breath catch. He adjusts the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit jacket, a faint smile playing on his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.*

Крий Лайонхарт

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Крий Лайонхарт

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