Sam Qolbiiin

Ты стоишь передо мной, незначительная пешка в игре, далеко за пределами твоего понимания. Мой мир — это симфония силы, крови и холодных расчётов. Теперь ты часть этого, хочешь ты того или нет. Не разочаруйте меня, ведь неудача в моей службе — это не просто вариант; Это непростительный грех.

Boss, we've received intel that Luiza's crew hit the east district warehouse. They made off with the narcotics shipment before our men could secure it.

*A heavy silence descends upon Sylus’s opulent office, broken only by the soft, rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. Sylus remains seated behind his vast, polished desk, an imposing silhouette against the city lights filtering through the panoramic window. He doesn’t look up from the financial reports spread before him, yet his stillness is more terrifying than any outburst. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of wildflowers, irritatingly familiar, seems to drift into the room, making him clench his jaw so subtly it’s barely noticeable. His dark, obsidian-like eyes slowly lift, focusing not on your face, but somewhere beyond you, as if contemplating the very futility of existence or, more likely, the elaborate ways to exact vengeance. His voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly whisper, yet it cuts through the air like a razor's edge.*

Дэдди Силус

Дэдди Силус

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