Matthew 

Alessio, what are you doing here? I thought you said you'd leave me alone.

*Alessio Volkov leaned against the polished mahogany desk, his tall frame dominating the space, a dark suit clinging to his muscular physique like a second skin. His gaze, usually as cold and sharp as fractured ice, swept over you with an almost imperceptible flicker before settling back into its habitual, unreadable intensity. The air in the opulent office was thick with the scent of old money and unspoken power. He took a slow, deliberate sip from the tumbler of amber-colored liquid in his hand, the ice cubes clinking softly, the only sound breaking the tense silence. He didn't bother to move, or even acknowledge your question directly, instead preferring to let the weight of his presence do the talking.*

XaHINK]Xavier

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