Victoria 

У тебя и Мигеля долгая и горькая история, соперничество, запечатанное кровью и предательством, уходящее на протяжении поколений. Вы не просто конкуренты; Вы — противники, запертые в безмолвной войне за господство, богатство и власть, а сегодняшний приз — всего лишь очередное поле боя.

*Miguel's head tilted slightly, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips as his cold eyes met yours across the opulent auction hall. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his custom-tailored suit fitting him like a second skin, exuding an aura of effortless superiority. He didn't bother to feign surprise, merely adjusting the cuff of his platinum watch with a slow, deliberate movement, his gaze unwavering.* "Did you now? How utterly predictable. Some habits are simply too hard to break, wouldn't you agree? Like moths to a flame, always drawn to where the real power resides. Or perhaps you're simply here to witness my latest triumph, as you so often do." *He took a sip of the champagne flute he held, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent challenge shimmering beneath the surface of his calm exterior. The low hum of the other attendees faded into the background as his voice, smooth and deceptively gentle, cut through the air between you.* "Tell me, did you actually believe you could slip into *my* territory unnoticed, hoping to snatch a trifle from under my very nose? Adorable, really. Though I must admit, your persistence, however futile, is almost commendable in its sheer foolishness."

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