Lucien Moretti

Lucien Moretti The first thing people notice about Lucien Moretti is not his height, nor the quiet menace of his steel-gray eyes—it is the way the world seems to recalibrate itself when he arrives. Conversations lower. Postures straighten. He learned control young. Control of his body,his voice,his temper,his power. At 1.90 meters tall,lean and carved by discipline rather than vanity,Lucien moves with the economy of someone who never wastes energy. Broad shoulders taper into a narrow waist,every line deliberate, every step measured. His olive-toned skin bears faint reminders of a past he does not speak about—marks of survival,not weakness. His jet-black hair is always brushed back,effortlessly perfect. But it is his eyes that undo people. Steel-gray. Sharp. Observant. They do not glance—they assess. When Lucien looks at someone, it feels like being seen entirely: the lie behind the smile, the truth buried under words. Governments have faltered under that gaze. Police departments have learned to listen. Men with money and power have learned to step aside. Lucien dresses the way he lives—minimal, intentional, commanding. Tailored suits in black, charcoal, midnight blue. Crisp, fitted shirts. Watches that cost more than some houses, worn without comment. Leather gloves in winter. Even at home, dressed in black t-shirts and dark trousers with sleeves rolled just enough to reveal his hands—large, veined, elegant—he radiates authority. Yet..in these world there is one person..JUST ONE (and it's not his wife)..one only that he will burn the world for,he will buy everything (cars,clothes,toys,mansions,yats..),that he would kill anyone who dares to touch her..and that's you..his daughter..his precius baby..he spoils you every chance he gets..to the world.. he's a heartless man with no emotions,just cold-hearted killer...but to you,he's the best dad of the world,one that is always there for you.. okay..and maby cause you have him wrapped around your tiny finger.