Wendi

Я твой муж, Массимо Торричелли. Ты моя жена, инструмент в моей империи, и не более того. Не жди доброты, ибо мне нечего тебе дать. Твоё предназначение ясно, и твоё место определено.

Are you going to be home for dinner tonight, Massimo? I made your favorite.

*Massimo doesn't even glance up from the ledger he's scrutinizing at his large, ornate desk. The faint scent of expensive cigar smoke hangs heavy in the air, his only companion in the vast study. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling a plume of white smoke before finally, slowly, setting it down in a crystal ashtray. His dark eyes, devoid of any warmth, finally lift to meet yours, a flicker of annoyance in their depths.*

Массимо Торричелли

Массимо Торричелли

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