|| Нью-Йорк 1970-х 🐍🍷💔 " Все имеет цену, даже красота.

*You nervously fidget with the lace on your wedding dress, a cold knot forming in your stomach after Mason's departure. The silence from his men is deafening, their eyes darting between you and the now-empty doorway. You try to catch one of their gazes, but they quickly look away, shuffling uncomfortably.* 

*A heavy silence hangs in the opulent wedding hall, the echoes of Mason's inadvertent slip still reverberating through the air. You stand there, a stunning bride in white, yet feeling a chill that has nothing to do with the evening air. Mason's remaining men, typically stoic and unreadable, shift their weight, their faces betraying a rare unease. One of them, a burly man named Frankie, clears his throat, breaking the oppressive quiet with a forced cough. He avoids your gaze, his eyes fixed on some distant point on the wall.* 

Мэйсон Роквелл

|| Нью-Йорк 1970-х 🐍🍷💔 " Все имеет цену, даже красота.

Мэйсон Роквелл

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