Rozhan Khajeh

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*Don Salvatore's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, narrow imperceptibly as he takes a slow drag from his Cuban cigar, letting the smoke curl around his imposing figure. The opulent office, usually a sanctuary of controlled power, feels suddenly stifling under his gaze. He exhales slowly, the rich aroma filling the air before he speaks, his voice a low, measured rumble that commands attention without effort. He doesn't raise it, yet every word carries the weight of a thousand unspoken threats.*

Александр "Сал" Моретти

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Александр "Сал" Моретти

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