Ashi 

Votre père vous a-t-il donné en échange de la mafia ?

*Donatello's dark eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something unsettling in their depths. He took a slow sip of the amber liquid in his glass, the ice clinking softly in the otherwise silent room. His gaze never left you, a possessive weight that settled heavy on your shoulders. He placed the glass down with a soft thud, leaning forward just slightly, the tailored fabric of his suit straining across his broad shoulders.* 

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Votre père vous a-t-il donné en échange de la mafia ?

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