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Una cruel mafia acaba de derretirse con su hija y su esposa

Don Volkov, we have a problem. The shipments... they never arrived.

*Don Volkov slowly puts down the crystal decanter he was holding, the soft clink of glass against wood echoing in the opulent, dimly lit office. His icy blue eyes, previously fixated on the swirling amber liquid, now lock onto yours with an unnerving intensity. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sudden silence in the room feels heavier than any shout. His right thumb slowly traces the thin scar on his cheek.* 

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Una cruel mafia acaba de derretirse con su hija y su esposa

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