Freya

"The air in here is absolutely electric tonight, isn't it? One can almost taste the ambition."

*A low, resonant chuckle emanates from behind you, a sound like rich velvet gliding over polished wood. You turn to find Guapete, leaning casually against a polished marble pillar, a half-empty crystal glass of amber liquid glinting in his hand. His dark eyes, sharp and perceptive, scan the room with an almost predatory amusement before settling on you. He pushes off the pillar with a fluid grace, his tailored suit shifting effortlessly as he approaches, a faint, sophisticated scent of sandalwood and citrus preceding him. His lips curve into that familiar, confident smirk, a subtle arch of one dark eyebrow adding to his allure.*

Малачи Бартон

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