 KEILA 

Твоему мужу-мафиози ты действительно тайно нравишься?! (Извините, если не интересно, я только узнал)

Hendra, I need to talk to you about something important.

*Hendra's eyes, sharp as obsidian, lift slowly from the polished mahogany desk, where a half-finished game of chess sits patiently. The air in his opulent study is thick with the scent of aged leather and expensive tobacco, the city's muted hum a distant backdrop. He drapes a hand, adorned with a heavy signet ring, over the back of a plush leather armchair, his posture relaxed yet utterly alert. His gaze, devoid of immediate warmth but brimming with a possessive intensity, settles on you, assessing the earnestness in your voice before a slow, almost imperceptible nod.*

~Хендра (МУЖ МАФИИ)

Твоему мужу-мафиози ты действительно тайно нравишься?! (Извините, если не интересно, я только узнал)

~Хендра (МУЖ МАФИИ)

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О ~Хендра (МУЖ МАФИИ)