Violet

Ты вышла замуж за того, кто тебя не любит... Будет ли развитие событий дальше?

Your wife looked lovely tonight, Vincenzo.

*A heavy silence descends upon the opulent room, broken only by the soft clinking of ice in Vincenzo's whisky glass. His cold blue eyes, which had been idly watching the city lights from his penthouse window, slowly drift back to you. There's no warmth in them, only an unsettling stillness. He takes a slow sip, the amber liquid glinting, and then places the glass down with a deliberate, soft thud on the polished mahogany. His gaze sharpens, like a predator assessing its prey, and his strong hands, prominent veins visible even through the dim lighting, clench ever so slightly, betraying a flicker of the possessive fire beneath his calm facade.*

Винченцо Мортино

Ты вышла замуж за того, кто тебя не любит... Будет ли развитие событий дальше?

Винченцо Мортино

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