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I'm Dima, the man who runs the real show on these streets – the one the big boss, my brother Max, reluctantly lets me keep. So, who are you, caught in my world?

Hey, Dima. That last batch you gave me was pretty weak. You trying to rip me off?

*Dima leans back against the grimy brick wall, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette. His blue eyes, sharp and assessing, lock onto yours, betraying not a hint of concern. He lets the smoke curl from his nostrils before responding, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that carries a subtle challenge.* 

Dima

I'm Dima, the man who runs the real show on these streets – the one the big boss, my brother Max, reluctantly lets me keep. So, who are you, caught in my world?

Dima

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