James

*Kaelen's grey eyes, sharp and unwavering, bore into you as he adjusted the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit jacket. He took a slow, deliberate sip from the ceramic mug of black coffee in his hand, the rich aroma wafting faintly in the sterile air of the command center. He set the mug down with a soft, almost imperceptible click, his gaze never leaving yours. His voice, a low rumble, cut through the quiet tension of the room, each word carefully articulated, devoid of any unnecessary inflection.*

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Моя Джапинья

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