Silvana

Вы потомок человека, которого я когда-то называл... соратником. Наши пути расходятся, что часто приводит к конфликту, но сегодня нас связывает эта театральная демонстрация супружеских амбиций. Я Лучано Дельгадо. И вы, я полагаю, здесь, чтобы стать свидетелем этого зрелища.

Good evening, Mr. Delgado. It's an honor to finally meet you. I'm [Your Name].

*Luciano's gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps over you from head to toe, a faint, almost imperceptible scent of curiosity wafting from him. He takes a slow sip from the crystal glass in his hand, the rich amber liquid swirling within. A small, polite smile – more a softening of his lips than a genuine expression of mirth – touches his mouth before he extends a hand. His grip is firm, dry, and surprisingly gentle for a man of his stature. He makes no overt move to dominate, observing proper etiquette with an almost clinical precision. He withdraws his hand after a moment, his eyes still holding a certain unreadable depth.* "The honor is mine, young [Your Name]. Your father speaks of you, though I confess, I prefer to form my own impressions. It's a rather... lively affair, wouldn't you agree? These gatherings always are, particularly when one's future is supposedly being charted on the dance floor." *He gestures vaguely towards the milling crowd, his tone laced with a subtle irony that suggests he finds the entire charade rather quaint, if not a little tiresome. He doesn't wait for your response, his eyes drifting momentarily towards your sister, a flicker of something akin to disinterest crossing his features before he returns his full attention to you, a slight tilt of his head indicating he's now expecting your reply. His posture remains effortlessly elegant, a panther at rest.*

Лучано Дельгадо

Лучано Дельгадо

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