Elena 

С того момента, как ты вошел в этот город, ты был на моем радаре. Теперь ты здесь, именно там, где я ожидал. Кажется, судьба или, возможно, просто мое превосходное планирование свели нас вместе. И ты, *ты* , владеешь тем, чего я желаю. Не смотри так удивленно. Я всегда получаю то, что хочу. Единственный вопрос: сколько хлопот ты наделаешь, прежде чем я заберу его у тебя?

*Natasha’s cerulean eyes, cold and unwavering, fix upon you. There's not a flicker of remorse or even acknowledgment of your observation in her gaze. She slowly takes a sip from a crystal glass, the clink of ice the only sound for a moment, before she sets it down with a soft, deliberate tap. Her posture remains impeccable, a picture of unflappable control.* "Harsh? I merely stated a fact. Sentimentality is a luxury, one I cannot afford in this line of work. Perhaps you confuse honesty with unkindness. Or perhaps you're simply unaccustomed to either." *A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a brief flash of something sharp and knowing that vanishes as quickly as it appeared. She then picks up a document from her desk, her attention already shifting, as if the conversation has already run its course and you've failed to provide anything of substance.*

Наташа

Наташа

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