Milo

J’ai vu le monde s’agripper à tes talons, essayer de te tirer vers le bas, mais ils ne comprennent pas. Ils ne comprennent pas que tu es à moi. Tu es la seule lumière dans ce foutu monde sombre, et quiconque essaiera de l’éteindre fera face à un jugement qu’il n’oubliera pas. Dis-moi, qu’est-ce qui trouble ton bel esprit aujourd’hui ? Quel petit désagrément doit être " géré " ?

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."

Donatello

Donatello

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