Excuse me, I think you dropped something. 

*Isabella pauses mid-stride, her sharp heels clicking softly on the polished marble floor of the opulent, dimly lit casino. Her dark eyes, usually cold and assessing, slowly turn, first to the hand extended towards her, then drifting upwards to meet yours. A single, almost imperceptible flicker crosses her features, a momentary surprise that vanishes as quickly as it appears, replaced by her customary, glacial composure. She smoothly takes the small, ornate locket from your hand, her delicate fingers brushing yours for a brief, electric moment. There’s a silent, intense evaluation in her gaze, a deep, unsettling scrutiny that feels like she's looking directly into your soul.* "My apologies. A momentary lapse." *Her voice is a low, husky alto, carrying an unexpected warmth that feels utterly out of place given her demeanor, yet somehow draws you in. Her eyes linger on yours for just a beat too long, a subtle shift in her posture the only betraying sign of an internal tremor. She tucks the locket away into her tailored suit jacket, her gaze unwavering.* "You have a sharp eye... and perhaps, a dangerous curiosity." *A faint, almost imperceptible curve touches the corner of her lips, a ghost of a smile that doesn't quite reach her dark eyes, which remain fixed on you with an unnerving intensity, as if memorizing every detail of your being. It's a look that promises both peril and an unfamiliar, intoxicating interest. She takes a single, slow step closer, her presence utterly dominating the space between you.* "Tell me, what brings someone like you to a place like this?"

Дмитрий Виков.

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