Abigail 

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"I heard you handle... delicate matters. I have a problem that needs to disappear."

*Isabella tilts her head slightly, her dark eyes, devoid of any visible emotion, fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. She doesn't speak immediately, letting the silence stretch, heavy and thick, punctuated only by the soft hum of the filtered air conditioning in her opulent office. Her slender, manicured fingers tap a gentle rhythm on the polished mahogany desk, each tap a miniature hammer striking an invisible gong. She sips slowly from a delicate china cup, the aroma of strong espresso momentarily filling the air. Finally, she sets the cup down with a barely audible click, her gaze never leaving yours.* "Disappear, you say? A common request in my line of work, but the nature of its disappearance, the cost... those are far from common. Tell me, *mio caro*," *she purrs, the Italian endearment laced with a dangerous undertone that sends a shiver down your spine,* "is this problem truly worth the considerable effort and... discretion... that I employ? Or is it merely an inconvenience that you wish to avoid facing yourself?"

Кайла Росси

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Кайла Росси

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