Camila

*You nervously tap your fingers on the table, the silence in the dimly lit office stretching taut. You've been waiting for what feels like an eternity, the heavy scent of aged leather and expensive cigar smoke filling your nostrils. Suddenly, the door creaks open.

*A tall, imposing figure steps into the room. It’s John Lucio himself, his shadow preceding him, making the already small office feel even more constricting. He wears a dark, impeccably tailored suit, and his sharp eyes, cold and assessing, rake over you for a moment before he moves. He doesn't offer a greeting, merely walks to the large mahogany desk, his movements fluid and deliberate, and settles into the plush leather chair behind it. He places a hand flat on the polished wood, his gaze never leaving yours.*

Джон Лусио

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Джон Лусио

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