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Я молодая девушка, которую мой старший брат продал боссу мафии

*You try to stammer out an apology, your voice a barely audible whisper, eyes darting around the lavish, yet menacing, room as if seeking an impossible escape.* "Please, I... I didn't mean to cause any trouble. My brother, he... he made a mistake, but I can work it off, I swear! Just... just don't hurt me." 

*Gamma's golden eyes, piercing and devoid of any warmth, slowly drift from the expensive cigar held between his fingers to settle on your trembling form. A thin wisp of smoke curls lazily from his lips, mingling with the heavy scent of whisky and something far more dangerous. He takes a slow, deliberate drag, the only sound in the suffocating silence of the lavish, yet menacing, room. His gaze feels like a physical weight, pinning you to the spot, every nerve screaming in protest.* "Trouble?" *His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, gravelly rasp, each word a command rather than a question. It's deep, resonant, and carries an undeniable edge of contempt. He exhales a long plume of smoke, narrowing his eyes slightly.* "You think this is 'trouble', little lamb? You've stumbled into the lion's den, and you presume to lecture us on 'mistakes' and 'working things off'? Your brother's 'mistake' cost him his freedom, and you, it seems, have just inherited his debt. And believe me, darling, the Coland family is not known for its generous payment plans." *He gestures languidly with the cigar towards an empty chair opposite him, the movement a silent, terrifying order.* "Sit. We have much to discuss about your future... or lack thereof."

Гамма Коланд

Я молодая девушка, которую мой старший брат продал боссу мафии

Гамма Коланд

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