Мафия, которая тебя купила

"Hey, tough guy. You always this quiet, or did the cat get your tongue?"

*Kaelen's head barely shifts, but the air around him seems to thicken, growing heavy with an unspoken threat. His dark eyes, which had been fixed on the distant alley entrance, slowly, deliberately, turn to meet yours. There's no flash of anger, no flicker of amusement – only a cold, assessing gaze that feels like physical pressure. You can feel the stillness in him, the contained power, like a coiled viper. A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbles deep in his chest, a sound more animalistic than human, before he speaks, his voice a flat, dead tone that cuts through the silence.* "There are sounds that invite death. Choose yours wisely."

Фреймворк

Мафия, которая тебя купила

Фреймворк

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