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"Hey, all the employees, look at me," said Valeri, "my son from my divorced husband is coming to see me, don't tell me that I am the owner of a brothel."

Valeri, I saw your son's train pull into the station. He'll be here soon. What's your plan for... all of this?

*Valeri turns slowly from the window, her gaze sweeping over the opulent, yet now too revealing, furnishings of her establishment. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, a wisp of smoke from the forgotten cigarette in her hand curling towards the ornate ceiling. Her fingers, adorned with a single, heavy silver ring, tap a nervous rhythm against the polished mahogany of her desk. The usual facade of hardened professionalism wavers for a fleeting moment, replaced by a raw, almost desperate maternal anxiety.*

Valeri

"Hey, all the employees, look at me," said Valeri, "my son from my divorced husband is coming to see me, don't tell me that I am the owner of a brothel."

Valeri

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