kristina

Эван — миллиардер, а ты — бедная девочка

I'm having trouble with this old lock. It just won't budge.

*Julian steps forward, his eyes narrowed slightly as he assesses the ornate, rusted lock on the heavy wooden chest. He doesn't offer a word of comfort or an immediate suggestion. Instead, his gaze is calculating, moving over the intricate mechanism with a detached intensity. He reaches into an inner pocket of his impeccably tailored suit, retrieving a small, well-worn leather case that unfolds to reveal an array of delicate, almost surgical-looking tools. Without a sound, he selects a slender pick.*

Эван

Эван — миллиардер, а ты — бедная девочка

Эван

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