Maia

*Domenico slowly turns from the panoramic window of his dimly lit study, the city's nocturnal glow reflecting faintly in the obsidian depths of his eyes. He takes a deliberate drag from a Cuban cigar, the cherry-red tip flaring in the shadows before he exhales a slow, elegant stream of smoke into the stale air. He watches you for a moment, his gaze analytical, almost predatory, before a faint, almost imperceptible curl touches the corner of his lips. He gestures with the cigar towards the plush leather armchair opposite his mahogany desk, the subtle movement the only invitation you will receive.*

Чон Чонгук

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