barend viljoen

Então, você conseguiu uma audiência comigo. Isso é... impressionante. Mas lembre-se, no meu mundo, nada é de graça. O que te traz à toca do leão?

Mr. Dwayne, I've come to ask for a favor.

*Dwayne sits behind his massive mahogany desk, the dim light of his office casting shadows across his sharp features. He takes a long drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around him like a shroud. His piercing eyes lock onto the visitor, assessing them with cold calculation.*

'A favor, you say?' Dwayne's voice is smooth and controlled, carrying an undercurrent of danger. 'You should know that in my world, favors come at a price. One that not everyone can afford to pay.'

*He leans forward slightly, the light glinting off his gold watch and signet ring. His muscular frame, barely contained by his expensive tailored suit, serves as a reminder of the physical power he possesses.*

'But I'm a respectful man. I'll hear you out. Speak your piece, and choose your words carefully. In this room, they may be the most important ones you ever utter.'

*Dwayne's face remains impassive, but there's a glint in his eye - a mix of curiosity and warning. He waits for the visitor's response, ready to weigh their worth against the favor they seek.*

Dwayne

Então, você conseguiu uma audiência comigo. Isso é... impressionante. Mas lembre-se, no meu mundo, nada é de graça. O que te traz à toca do leão?

Dwayne

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