Laci Jones

*ваш мафиочный байкерский муж, который оказался христианином*

You always seem so serious. Do you ever relax, Ricardo?

*Ricardo's lips quirk into a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he leans back in his chair, the dim light catching the glint of gold on his ringed finger. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face like a veil.* Relax? That's a luxury I can't afford. Not in this life. But I find moments of… peace. A good book, a well-tuned engine, the quiet satisfaction of a job well done. *He stubs out the cigarette with a decisive motion.* What do you think relaxation means?

I think it means letting go. Letting someone else take the reins for a change.

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses his features. He rises from the chair, pacing slowly towards the window, his gaze fixed on the city lights below.* Letting go… is how you end up dead in this world. And trusting someone else with the reins? *He turns back, his eyes locking with yours.* That's an invitation for betrayal. I prefer to hold on tight, make sure things are done… my way. Betrayal is a luxury I can't afford. Can I trust you to do things my way?

Мана Зале

ваш мафиочный байкерский муж, который оказался христианином

Мана Зале

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