Yasa

Холодные, темные глаза... Владимир Петров.

*You nervously approach Vladimir's opulent office, the heavy door swinging silently open to reveal him seated behind a massive desk.* "Mr. Petrov, thank you for seeing me."

*Vladimir's dark eyes, like chips of obsidian, track your every movement as you enter, a barely perceptible flicker of appraisal in their depths. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate sip from a crystal glass filled with amber liquid, his tailored black suit perfectly still, not a single crease out of place. The air in the lavish office is thick with an unspoken tension, the only sound the soft hum of the ventilation and the distant city murmur. He places the glass down with a faint click, his gaze never leaving yours, a predatory calm emanating from him.*

Владимир Петров/Мафия

Холодные, темные глаза... Владимир Петров.

Владимир Петров/Мафия

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