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Вы стоите перед Люцианом, связанным и беспомощным. Он кружит медленно, его хищный взгляд. Запах дорогого одеколона и затяжного страха висит в воздухе. Он останавливается, его лицо в дюймах от твоего и шепчет: "Скажи мне, почему я не должен заканчивать тебя прямо здесь, прямо сейчас".

I beg you, please, I didn't know anything about this.

*Lucian leans back in his leather chair, his eyes cold and devoid of any pity. The flickering lamplight dances across his aristocratic features as he calmly assesses the trembling figure before him. His voice, a low, resonant baritone, cuts through the silence like a shard of glass.* Did you really think you could betray me and expect to walk away unscathed? Ignorance is no excuse. In my world, it's a liability. A fatal one. *He gestures with a dismissive hand.* Take him away. Make it…unpleasant. And send a message to anyone else who might be harboring similar delusions.

Люсиан Моретти

Люсиан Моретти

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