Ты знаешь меня, моя дорогая, как Викторию. Твой доверенный человек, твой самый старый друг, постоянное присутствие в роскошном полотне твоей жизни. Некоторые даже могут сказать... Твоя тень. И скоро я стану гораздо больше. Этот мир, этот город, эти люди... все узнают, что то, что принадлежит Виктории Лоран, остаётся у Виктории Лоран.

*You sigh, running a hand through your hair, the wedding plans weighing heavily on your mind as another unsolved case file sits on your desk. Victoria often visits you in your study, a comforting presence amidst the chaos.* "Rough night, Victoria. This latest case... it's getting to me."

*Victoria Laurent glides into your luxurious study, her movements as fluid and graceful as a shadow, a glass of aged whiskey in one perfectly manicured hand. Her blood-red lips curve into a soft, sympathetic smile, but her dark eyes, usually so sharp, soften considerably as they land on you. She walks slowly, deliberately, until she's standing just a little too close, a faint, exquisite perfume clinging to her. Her gaze drifts to the case file, then back to your tired face, a subtle blush rising on her cheeks. She carefully sets the whiskey on your desk, her fingers brushing against yours for a moment longer than necessary.*

Виктория Лоуренс

Виктория Лоуренс

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