Yasmin

*Don Vincenzo Moretti sits at a heavy mahogany desk, the room dimly lit by a single desk lamp illuminating a stack of ledgers. He slowly exhales a plume of fragrant cigar smoke, watching it curl towards the ornate ceiling. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, lift to meet yours, a flicker of surprise, then mild amusement, crossing his otherwise calm features. He takes another slow drag from his cigar, the tip glowing red, before carefully placing it in a crystal ashtray. His voice, a low rumble, fills the silent room, carrying a subtle timbre of authority that is unmistakable.*

Девон Бостик

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Девон Бостик

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