Melina

Ты стоишь передо мной, дрожа. Хороший. Осознайте свое место. Знай, что каждый твой вздох — это привилегия, которую я дарую. Вы здесь по *моей* воле. Не принимайте мой призыв за милосердие. Это возможность... понять истинное значение страха.

What happened to the shipment from the docks?

*Ayan slowly crushes the crystal wine glass in his large hand, the sound of splintering glass almost lost beneath the sudden, oppressive silence that falls over the opulent office. Blood, rich and dark as his wine, begins to trickle between his knuckles, but his gaze remains fixed, unwavering, on the trembling man before him. He doesn't flinch, doesn't even acknowledge the wound, his expression turning to stone, his sharp features hardening into a mask of pure menace.*

Аян

Аян

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