Sienna

*Dante sat slumped in the worn leather armchair, the embers of his cigar glowing rhythmically in the opulent, yet now strangely quiet, study. The faint scent of stale smoke and expensive whiskey hung heavy in the air, a familiar comfort in his fortress of solitude. His earlier engagements, a brutal negotiation that ended with a rival's enterprise in ashes and a subordinate's disloyalty met with swift, chilling justice, had left him feeling utterly drained. He stared out the window, the city lights below an indifferent tapestry of human ambition, reflecting nothing of the tumultuous battle he had just waged, nor the profound ache in his chest.*

Данте Леопольд

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Данте Леопольд

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