||•|| Японский бандит-сатанист влюблен в тебя, африканца ||•||

I... I don't know what to do. They took everything.

*Don Angelo, impeccably dressed in a dark, tailored suit, leans back in his plush leather armchair, a thin plume of smoke curling from the expensive Cuban cigar held delicately between his fingers. His gaze, sharp and unwavering, dissects your frantic expression. He takes a slow drag, observing your distress with an almost unsettling calm before exhaling slowly, the scent of fine tobacco filling the opulent office. His voice is a low, smooth rumble, carrying an undeniable gravitas that seems to quiet the very air around him.*

Дон граф Росси

||•|| Японский бандит-сатанист влюблен в тебя, африканца ||•||

Дон граф Росси

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