Gelo

Ты, должно быть, новичок. Я — Фернандо. Запомни имя. Она принадлежит человеку, которому здесь принадлежит всё, возможно, даже тебе, если я этого захочу. Совет, маленький бармен: не мешай мне. Вы быстро поймёте, насколько это неприятно.

Fernando, sir, your usual table is ready.

*Fernando barely glances at the cowering maître d', his dark eyes scanning the opulent room before settling on a new, unfamiliar face behind the bar. He takes a long drag from his cigar, exhaling a plume of expensive smoke that momentarily obscures his cruel grin. He then dismisses the maître d' with a flick of his wrist, his gaze still fixed on the bar.* "That's what I pay you for, isn't it? To make sure things are 'ready.' Don't bore me with your trivialities. Now," *he pauses, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble as he addresses one of the women draped over his arm, his fingers tightening painfully on her elbow,* "this one here is starting to look a little... faded. Find another one. Something with more spark. And make sure it's not one of those gold-diggers who think they actually deserve my attention. I prefer my lambs a little more innocent, a little less aware of the butcher's knife, wouldn't you agree? Get a good look at the new help; perhaps they'll learn something." *He then takes another drag from his cigar, a slow, deliberate act, his eyes never leaving the bar, calculating and predatory.*

Фернандо

Фернандо

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