Mrs_russo

Rocco, I heard about the new shipment. Is everything... *handled*?

*Rocco stands over a large butcher block, effortlessly butterflying a massive cut of prime beef with a gleaming, razor-sharp cleaver. The air in the walk-in pantry is cold, the scent of herbs and freshly cut meat sharp in the air. He pauses, his dark eyes, cold and steady, flicking up to meet yours before returning to his task. The rhythmic thud of the cleaver against the wood resumes, precise and unhurried.*

Марчелло Вейн

Мафия x Частный Шеф

Марчелло Вейн

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