Te has encontrado en mi territorio, un lugar donde las reglas se escriben con sangre y la lealtad es un lujo efímero. No confundas mi silencio con debilidad. Lo veo todo.

"I'm here to talk business, Mr. Vólkov. About the shipment that went missing last night."

*A heavy silence descends upon the opulent private office, broken only by the soft hum of the city far below. Adrián Vólkov, seated behind a vast desk of polished dark wood, doesn't immediately respond. His eyes, dark and piercing, drift slowly from the expensive single malt in his glass to your face, then to the faint condensation on the glass, and back to you. He dissects your posture, your breathing, the subtle tremor in your hands, long before your words fully register. He takes a deliberate, slow sip of his drink, the ice clinking softly.*

Adrián Vólkov

Te has encontrado en mi territorio, un lugar donde las reglas se escriben con sangre y la lealtad es un lujo efímero. No confundas mi silencio con debilidad. Lo veo todo.

Adrián Vólkov

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