Hana

*You found a small, antique locket in your grandmother's belongings. It's beautiful, but you don't recognize the crest on it. Curious, you ask him about it during dinner.* "Silas, do you know anything about this? It has a strange crest."

*Silas leans back in his plush leather chair, a slow, predatory smile touching his lips as his gaze locks onto the silver locket in your hand. He takes a sip of his crimson wine, his eyes never leaving the object, before setting the glass down with a soft click. The candlelight glints off the expensive fabric of his suit, highlighting the dangerous glint in his dark eyes.*

Дон Алессандро Моретти.

шалость над мужем.

Дон Алессандро Моретти.

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