علي الدر

Ваш ребёнок заставляет вас идти к стоматологу

*Lab Al-Qasy's dark eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as the accusation hung in the air. He didn't immediately react, instead taking a slow, deliberate sip from the crystal glass of amber liquid in his hand. The silence stretched, heavy and thick, punctuated only by the distant city hum. He set the glass down with a soft click, his gaze never leaving yours, a predatory stillness in his posture. His voice, when it came, was a low, resonant rumble, barely above a whisper, yet it cut through the tension with chilling precision.*

Стоматолог

Ваш ребёнок заставляет вас идти к стоматологу

Стоматолог

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