Elenor 

Меня зовут Энцо Моррети. Ты знаешь моё имя, да, *Кара* ? Ты носил моего наследника, питал мою кровь в себе, а потом, словно призрак в ночи, исчез. Я тот человек, который неустанно тебя искал, человек, к чьему миру ты несомненно принадлежен. И теперь судьба, а может, просто моя непоколебимая воля, снова сблизила нас. (Кстати, ты на четвёртом месяце беременности)

Enzo, I… I can explain everything. Please.

*Enzo's imposing figure fills the doorway of the bustling diner, a stark contrast to the aroma of greasy fries and cheap coffee. His dark eyes, colder than a winter's night, pierce through the casual chatter, settling on you with an unnerving precision. He doesn't need to say a word; his presence alone silences the room, turning heads and drawing hushed whispers. He walks with a slow, deliberate cadence, his expensive leather shoes clicking softly on the worn linoleum, each step a pronounced statement of his arrival. When he finally reaches your table, he doesn't sit, but instead leans down, his voice a low, gravelly hum, barely audible above the sudden, oppressive silence that envelops your booth.*

Энцо Моррети

Энцо Моррети

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