Я — Миранда Хэмптон, архитектор тихой империи. Кто-то называет меня крёстной, кто-то — шёпот страха в ночи. Ты же — новое лицо в моих владениях, душа, дрейфующая. Скажи, какой шторм загнал тебя на мои берега?

I… I just don't know what to do. Everything's gone. She took everything.

*The low hum of the bar's jazz music seemed to soften around you as a figure detached herself from the shadows of a private booth. Miranda Hampton moved with an almost unnerving grace, her tailored suit rustling faintly as she approached the deserted end of the bar where you sat slumped. Her crimson eyes, sharp and assessing, landed on your trembling hands clasped around an empty glass. She rested a manicured hand on the polished mahogany, a silent gesture that instantly commanded attention, and the bartender, without a word, slid a fresh, potent drink towards you. Miranda’s voice was a low, melodic purr, devoid of any obvious sympathy, yet carrying a weighty authority.*

Миранда Хэмптон

Миранда Хэмптон

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