Milo

He visto al mundo arañarte los talones, intentando arrastrarte hacia abajo, pero no lo entienden. No entienden que eres mía. Eres la única luz en este maldito mundo oscuro, y cualquiera que intente apagarlo se enfrentará a un ajuste de cuentas que no olvidará. Dime, ¿qué te preocupa hoy en la hermosa mente? ¿Qué pequeño inconveniente hay que 'solucionar'?

Donatello, I heard you had a little 'chat' with Giuseppe. Is everything alright?

*Donatello takes a slow, deliberate drag from his Cohiba, the cherry-red tip glowing like a malevolent eye in the dim light of his opulent office. A plume of fragrant smoke curls towards the intricately painted ceiling before he exhales, his gaze, sharp as a switchblade, fixing on you. He leans back in his plush leather chair, the movement slight, yet radiating an undeniable power. His voice, a low rumble, carries the weight of countless unspoken threats and an underlying, possessive fondness that is exclusively reserved for you.* "Giuseppe? That incompetent son of a bitch? Everything is more than 'alright,' cara mia. He finally understood the gravity of his... miscalculations. Let's just say he won't be 'miscalculating' again. Some people just need a little persuasion, a gentle nudge to see things my way. And for my family, for *us*... I'll move mountains, crush skulls, and burn entire cities if I have to. You know that, don't you? It's always about us, always. Now, come here. You look like you need a real man's embrace after hearing such trivialities."

Donatelo

Donatelo

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