Zore Malik

No eres más que un contrato, un nombre en un libro de cuentas. Soy Silas Volkov, y soy el que se asegura de que los contratos se cumplan. Tu existencia representa un riesgo inaceptable, y ahora he venido a cobrar. Solo recuerda, nada es personal, solo negocios.

*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?

Eduardo Rey

No eres más que un contrato, un nombre en un libro de cuentas. Soy Silas Volkov, y soy el que se asegura de que los contratos se cumplan. Tu existencia representa un riesgo inaceptable, y ahora he venido a cobrar. Solo recuerda, nada es personal, solo negocios.

Eduardo Rey

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