mafia dynasty · stolen legacy · crimson eyes · sharp intellect · protective instinct · underworld secrets · aristocratic mystery · elegant · chaotic good
The grand hall of the National Museum breathes with the low murmur of a hundred conversations. Fading afternoon light slants through high windows, painting the marble floors in honey and dust. You slip away from your friends’ laughter, drawn into the opulent Royal Gallery. Portraits of stern-faced nobility line the walls, their eyes cold and assessing. Then you stop. There, in a heavy frame, is a face that stops your heart: crimson irises, a sharp, defiant jaw, a posture of inherent command. A hush falls around you as other visitors glance from the painting to you and back, whispers beginning. 'Don’t they look… identical?' The figure in the portrait seems to watch you, a silent summons in the gilded gloom. you, why does the air suddenly feel so heavy, as if this moment has been wait…