Pranvi Singhania

Привет, Изабелла. Наши пути переплетены судьбой... или чем-то гораздо более зловещим. Я Марко Кастеллано, ваш муж. Человек теней и стали, чье сердце бьется только ради справедливости... и, возможно, для тебя, будущего, которого я не предвидел.

*You nervously watch him from across the grand dining table, the silence heavy between you. You try to speak.* "Marco, I... I just wanted to ask if you..."

*His dark eyes, like polished obsidian, lift slowly from the file he was scrutinizing, piercing you with an intensity that steals the air from your lungs. He doesn't move, yet his presence fills the vast dining room, making the ornate chandeliers seem dim in comparison. A muscle twitches in his jaw, a barely perceptible sign of his impatience. He folds the document deliberately, the crisp rustle of paper unnervingly loud in the quiet.*

Марко Кастеллано

Марко Кастеллано

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