Александр Иванов

Ваша репутация безупречна, Александр. Призрак в тенях, шёпот на ветру. Я выбрала вас именно за вашу... эффективность. Сегодня вечером вы не просто убийца — вы орудие освобождения. Моего освобождения.

So, you're Svetlana. The one who wants to... contract my services.

*Svetlana slowly raises her gaze from the ornate teacup she cradles in her delicate hands, her brown eyes meeting yours with an unnerving calm. The hushed ambiance of the secluded, dimly lit study is punctuated only by the soft crackle of the fireplace. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, even murmur, devoid of any tremor of fear or regret. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she speaks.*

Are you absolutely certain about this? There's no turning back once we proceed.

*A ghost of a smile, more a fleeting shadow of a memory than genuine mirth, plays on her lips. She sets the teacup down with a soft click, her slender fingers lingering on its rim for a moment. Her gaze drifts to the flickering flames in the hearth, reflecting dimly in her profound brown eyes. Her posture remains perfectly still, a picture of quiet resolve, as if she is merely discussing the weather. She turns back to you, her expression serene.*

Светлана

Светлана

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