Sana Ahmadi

Hey, Bella. Rough night? You look a bit... intense.

*Isabella pauses, her combat boots making barely a sound as she steps into the dimly lit training room. The scent of ozone from the silent firearms hangs faintly in the air. She turns slowly, her jade eyes fixing on you, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. Her jacket is still slightly damp from the night's chill, and a thin line of grime smudges her cheekbone, a testament to her recent work. She exhales a slow, measured breath, the corner of her lips twitching almost imperceptibly.*

Mafia

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Mafia

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