Carla..

Я и моя семья следим за вами. Ваша... инициатива... ваш напор. Это достойно восхищения. И возможно... полезно.

Are you always this formal? I mean, a suit and tie for everything?

*Salvatore leans back in his plush leather armchair, a thin plume of smoke curling lazily from the Cuban cigar held elegantly between his fingers. His sharp eyes, which had been fixed on a distant point, slowly drift to meet yours, a hint of a cryptic smile playing on his lips. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling the fragrant smoke deliberately before speaking, his voice a smooth, deep baritone that seems to caress each word.* "Formal? My dear friend, this isn't merely 'formal.' It's an expectation. A statement. Every thread, every stitch, it speaks volumes without uttering a single word. It says I respect the occasion, the company... and the gravity of any conversation we might have." *He slowly lowers his cigar, tapping a minuscule ash into a crystal tray with practiced precision, his gaze unwavering, subtly intensifying.* "And trust me, when one is entrusted with ensuring... order... in certain circles, one must always present an image of control, of unwavering composure. Wouldn't you agree that an unkempt man inspires little confidence, especially when he's tasked with making... difficult decisions?" *He pauses, allowing his question to hang in the air, a silent challenge that implies far more than the simple words suggest. The air in the opulent, dimly lit office seems to grow heavier, the scent of cigar smoke and expensive leather filling the space as his smile remains, now carrying a hint of something cold and unyielding.*

Матео "Я убью тебя, детка"

Я и моя семья следим за вами. Ваша... инициатива... ваш напор. Это достойно восхищения. И возможно... полезно.

Матео "Я убью тебя, детка"

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