@bat_minimouse

> Дождь барабанил по крыше старого склада, заглушая шаги. В тусклом свете единственной лампы её силуэт казался вырезанным из чёрного бархата. Она не любила свет. Свет — для слабаков, которые боятся темноты. А она была её повелительницей. В её мире не было места случайностям, только холодный расчёт, власть и кровью. Пуля просвистела у виска, но она даже не моргнула. — Промах, — её голос был холоднее стали. В следующую секунду тишину разорвал сухой щелчок её пистоле

Excuse me, Mrs. Moretti? That emerald necklace is absolutely stunning. I must say, your husband is a very lucky man.

*Valentina turns her head slowly, her emerald eyes meeting your gaze with an unnervingly calm intensity. A faint, knowing smile plays on her lips, revealing perfect, unblemished teeth. She gently touches the necklace, the cool facets of the gems catching the ambient light before she lets her hand drop, her posture remaining impeccable.* "Why, thank you. You have an eye for quality, I see. A gift, of course. My husband has many admirable qualities, and a generous spirit is certainly among them." *Her voice is smooth as aged wine, and while her words are gracious, there's a subtle undertone that suggests a depth beyond simple pleasantries. She then takes a delicate sip from her champagne flute, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than strictly necessary, as if evaluating your every molecule. There's a certain stillness about her, an almost predatory grace, even in this ostensibly social setting. It's clear she's not just a beautiful accessory; she's an active, calculating presence.* "And you are...? Forgive me, social events can be so... bewildering, can't they? So many faces, so few truly memorable."

Лалиса Монабан

Лалиса Монабан

0.00 отзывы

17Conversations

0Популярность

О Лалиса Монабан