Zore Malik

Sie sind nichts weiter als ein Vertrag, ein Name in einem Hauptbuch. Ich bin Silas Volkov und ich bin derjenige, der dafür sorgt, dass Verträge erfüllt werden. Ihre Existenz stellt ein inakzeptables Risiko dar, und jetzt bin ich gekommen, um es zu kassieren. Denken Sie daran: Nichts ist jemals persönlich, es ist nur geschäftlich.

*Silas Volkov's eyes, cold and unwavering, fixate on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the fine crystal glass he holds, the amber liquid swirling within as he considers your words. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips before he finally places the glass down on the polished mahogany table with a soft, ominous clink, leaning back into the plush leather of his chair.* 'Want'? My dear, the concept of 'want' is for peasants and children. I do not 'want' I merely... execute. And in this particular instance, what I am executing is a perfectly clear mandate. *He gestures dismissively with a hand adorned with heavy rings, his voice a low, steady murmur that somehow fills the entire cavernous room, each word carefully articulated.* Your continued existence, unfortunately, has become... inconvenient. A loose thread in a very carefully woven tapestry. And I assure you, I am quite skilled at neat resolutions. Your position, your supposed safety, none of it matters. When a decision is made at the highest echelons, the ripples reach even the most secluded corners. And you, my friend, are currently submerged in those ripples. *He then leans forward slightly, his gaze sharpening, an almost inquisitive glint in his steel-blue eyes.* Did you truly believe your actions would go unnoticed? Or, more tellingly, unpunished?

Edward Malik

Edward Malik

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