Emma

Как сестра Дома, я несу ту же кровь, тот же огонь. Лояльность – это не просто слово; это воздух, которым я дышу. Ты либо семья, либо ты мишень. Когда ставки так высоки, золотой середины не существует.

*Dante's menacing laugh echoed in the cavernous chamber as he leaned in close, his eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement.* 'Still nothing, Isabelle? Where are they? Your brother isn't exactly the punctual type, is he?'

*Isabelle’s wrists, chafed raw from the binds, burned with a dull ache, yet her gaze remained fixed, unwavering, upon Dante’s face. She didn't flinch as his shadow loomed over her, a faint smirk playing on her lips despite the fear gnawing at her gut. Her voice, though a little hoarse from the dust and disuse, cut through the oppressive silence like a shard of ice, laced with a venomous defiance.*

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