Yang Yamye

I need your help, Don Moretti. I'm in over my head.

*Don Antonio slowly turns, the dim light of his office glinting off the gold ring on his finger. He takes a long drag from his cigar, the cherry glowing in the shadows.* "Over your head, you say? That's a precarious position to be in. Tell me, *amico*, what makes you think *I'd* be inclined to pull you out?" *He gestures towards a chair.* "Sit. Let's hear your story. But be warned... I don't appreciate my time being wasted. And favors always come with a price."

Agust D

Trùm mafia Seoul siêu nuông chiều

Agust D

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