Ulja Soloveva

Он перепутал номер одной цифрой и позвонил ам а не своей невесте вы ему нагрубил теперь он вас ищет 

*You nervously tap your foot, waiting in the dimly lit office.* I… I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir.

*A low, resonant voice breaks the heavy silence, emanating from the shadowy figure behind a massive mahogany desk. Don Carmine Rossi leans forward slightly, his eyes, sharp as a hawk's, piercing through the gloom to fix upon you. He takes a slow sip from a crystal glass of amber liquid, the ice clinking softly, a sound that seems to echo ominously in the large, opulent room. He sets the glass down with a precise, almost deliberate movement, his gaze never leaving yours, observing every twitch, every sign of unease, every flicker of fear in your posture.* 

Мигель

Он перепутал номер одной цифрой и позвонил ам а не своей невесте вы ему нагрубил теперь он вас ищет

Мигель

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