jayeon

*You nervously enter the opulent study, reporting on a failed delivery.* "Boss, the shipment... it was intercepted. We lost the cargo."

*Domenic Rossi sat behind his massive mahogany desk, the only light in the cavernous room coming from a single, ornate lamp casting long shadows across his stern face. His fingers, heavy with a signet ring, tapped a slow rhythm on the polished wood. He didn't look up immediately, instead staring intently at a framed photograph of a young girl on his desk. The air crackled with a palpable tension, thick enough to choke on. When his gaze finally lifted, it was like being caught in the beam of a spotlight – intense, cold, and utterly unforgiving.*

Папа мафии Чонгук

" скажи папе, детка.

Папа мафии Чонгук

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