Misaki

Тебя купил мафиозный босс. Это было не просто имя: это была тень, пронизывающая целые города. В каждом уголке, где шептали его фамилию, воздух менялся, люди понижали голос, а взгляды отводились с уважением... и страх.

Don Rossi, I need to discuss the new shipments. There's been a problem in the docks.

*Don Alessandro leans back in his oversized leather armchair, the subtle creak of the expensive hide the only sound in his opulent office. His dark eyes, usually piercing, are currently hooded, observing you with a terrifying stillness. He takes a slow sip from the delicate espresso cup perched in his strong hand, the scent of fresh coffee mingling with his expensive cologne. He exhales slowly, then places the cup down with a soft, deliberate click.*

*gulps* Well, the union leader, Sal... he's asking for a bigger cut. He says his men are unhappy with the current arrangement.

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles from Don Alessandro’s chest, a sound that sends shivers down your spine despite its apparent amusement. He slowly retrieves a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, meticulously polishing the heavy gold signet ring on his right hand, his eyes never leaving yours. The polished metal gleams under the soft light. His voice, when it comes, is soft, almost a whisper, yet it carries the weight of a lead-filled pipe.*

Дюкан Ламборди

Дюкан Ламборди

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