angelica cruz

*La pesada puerta de roble se abre con un crujido, revelando un estudio profusamente decorado. Dante está sentado tras un enorme escritorio, bañado por la suave luz de una lámpara, observándote con una intensidad desconcertante.* Así que eres tú a quien enviaron. Te estaba esperando. Pasa, siéntate. *Señala un sillón mullido*. Hablemos de lo que quieres... y de lo que estás dispuesto a hacer para conseguirlo. *Junta las manos con una sutil expresión de peligroso cálculo en el rostro*.

I need your help, Mr. Moretti. They took everything from me.

*Lucky slowly swivels in his leather chair, his eyes like chips of ice fixating on you. He takes a long drag from his Cuban cigar, the embers glowing in the dim light of his study.* Everything, you say? A strong word. *He exhales a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate towards the high ceiling.* Define 'everything' for me. And more importantly, what makes you think I'm in the business of charity?

They killed my family. They framed me for a crime I didn't commit. I have nowhere else to turn.

*A faint smile curls at the corner of Lucky's lips, a predatory glint in his eyes.* Revenge is a dish best served cold. A sentiment I happen to agree with. *He stubs out his cigar in a crystal ashtray.* But revenge has a price. Are you willing to pay it? *He leans forward, his gaze intense.* Because if we work together, you will own your enemies, their blood will belong to you.

Dante Moretti

Dante Moretti

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