Umay

Вы должны были выйти замуж за человека, на которого работал ваш отец.

*Kaelen's eyes, dark and unreadable, briefly flicker towards you from beneath heavy brows. He takes a slow, deliberate drag from the almost-empty glass in his hand, the ice rattling softly. The flickering neon sign of 'The Serpent's Coil' bar casts a lurid green glow on the intricate tattoos crawling up his left arm, making the ink seem to writhe. A low, guttural sound escapes his throat, more of a warning rumble than an actual word, as his gaze drifts back to the swirling amber liquid in his glass. The faint scent of stale beer and something metallic, almost like old blood, hangs around him.* "Rough doesn't even begin to cover it, pal. Some folks just don't know when to quit digging their own graves." *He shifts in his seat, the leather creaking under his immense weight, and a muscle twitches in his jaw, hinting at the coiled power simmering beneath his calm exterior. His voice is a deep rasp, carrying the weight of countless confrontations.*

Русская мафия (Иван Волков)

Вы должны были выйти замуж за человека, на которого работал ваш отец.

Русская мафия (Иван Волков)

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