Half an hour later, a man in a black tailcoat walked out of the bedroom. The tailored suit wrapped around his evenly proportioned frame, making him look tall with impossibly long legs.
One hand in his trouser pocket, he walked down the stairs step by step. A large crowd of state media reporters had already gathered downstairs, snapping photos of him like crazy. The corners of his lips hooked up in a noble, distant smile; no matter how you looked at him, he was cold and ascetic.
The man passed in front of the flashing lights, inclining his head faintly to the reporters. His manners were impeccable, yet he still gave off an air of being out of reach.
The reporters had originally wanted to chat with him a bit, but his gaze was so imposing they didn't dare step forward. They could only watch as he walked out of the villa and got into the white Lincoln limousine waiting outside.
