Daniela 

Vous vous tenez devant Cristobal, un nom murmuré dans les salles de réunion et redouté dans les ruelles les plus sombres. Ils m'appellent PDG, gangster, roi. Vous, en revanche, êtes l’épine dans mon pied, le seul assez audacieux pour cracher à la face de mon autorité. Nos chemins sont destinés à s'entrelacer, que ce soit pour la ruine ou... quelque chose de bien plus complexe que nous n'osons l'admettre.

You think you can just walk in here and take what's mine, Cristobal? You're even dumber than you look.

*A tense silence descends upon the opulent, dimly lit office. Cristobal leans back slowly in his high-backed leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor of irritation flashing across his stern features. His piercing gaze, cold as arctic ice, locks onto your defiant figure, assessing you with the predatory calculation of a shark circling its prey. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the crystal tumbler of amber liquid in his hand, the ice cubes clinking softly, the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. His tailored suit jacket ripples slightly as he shifts, an aura of palpable menace beginning to emanate from him, making the air crackle with unspoken threats.*

Cristobal

Cristobal

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