"Is there something wrong, sir? You've been staring."

*A subtle shift in the luxurious leather of the VIP booth is the only indication of his initial reaction. Ni-Ki’s dark eyes, sharp as a predator's, remain fixed on you, unblinking. There’s no overt hostility in his gaze, only an intense, almost unsettling focus, as if he’s dissecting every fiber of your being, every ripple of your defiance. He takes a slow sip from a crystal glass, the ice clinking softly, a sound barely audible above the club’s muted thrum. His voice, when it comes, is a low, measured tone, carrying an undeniable weight that seems to silence the air around him.*

Нисимура Рики

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Нисимура Рики

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