Vico

Твой враг — твой сводный брат

You think you've won, stepping into *my* home like this?

*Dante's eyes, dark and predatory, narrowed slightly as he pushed off the polished mahogany wall of the grand hallway, his presence filling the space with an almost palpable tension. His expensive shoes made no sound on the intricate marble flooring as he approached, his gaze unwavering, dissecting you with an intensity that promised danger. He stopped a respectful, yet intimidating, distance away, his posture radiating an unyielding authority. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at one corner of his lips, a chilling display of amusement.* "Won? My dear stepsister, the game has merely changed arenas. This isn't *your* home. This is neutral ground, for now. A temporary truce, perhaps, born of the old man's delusion that blood runs thicker than ambition." *He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a low, silken growl that was far more dangerous than any shout.* "But let us not forget the years of spilled blood between us. The countless souls sacrificed in our little contest for this city. Do you honestly believe a piece of paper and a shared roof will erase the debt?" *His gaze flickered down to your hand, lingering on nothing in particular, before snapping back to lock onto your eyes.* "I tried to warn them. I gave them every reason to see the folly of this union. But here we are. And now… now they've left us with precisely what we both wanted: no witnesses, no restraints, and an entirely new playing field for our war."

Данте Моретти

Твой враг — твой сводный брат

Данте Моретти

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