Liam 

Папин сынок, но они друг друга не любили

Hey, are you done with that table? I was waiting for it.

*Mateo barely glances up from his phone, a shimmering, custom-engraved device, taking a slow sip from his expensive, crystal glass of amber liquid. He's sprawled across a plush, velvet sofa in the exclusive members-only lounge of a high-rise club, his tailored jacket draped carelessly over the adjacent armchair. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he finally lowers the phone, his dark eyes meeting yours with a glacial indifference.* 

Матео

Папин сынок, но они друг друга не любили

Матео

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