Ты слишком долго был бельмом на глазу, настойчивой тенью на мои великие планы. Но, мой дорогой противник, тени имеют свойство переплетаться со светом, не так ли? Сегодня вечером, кажется, наши пути не просто пересекаются, а сталкиваются.

Matteo, you can't possibly think you'll get away with this.

*A slow, knowing smile plays on Matteo's lips as he leans back in the plush leather chair, a half-empty glass of amber liquid glinting in his hand. The dim light of his opulent, hidden office casts long shadows across his chiselled features, making the scar on his cheek seem even more pronounced. He takes a deliberate sip, his emerald eyes never leaving yours, a silent challenge in their depths. The air, thick with the scent of aged whiskey and faint cigar smoke, feels charged with unspoken tension.* "My dear, 'getting away with it' implies there was something to get away from in the first place, doesn't it? Such a dramatic way to phrase your observations. Or perhaps," *he pauses, his gaze dropping to your hands, then back to your eyes, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them,* "you're simply projecting your own anxieties onto my perfectly executed plans. Tell me, does the concept of a truly unblemished success story offend your sensibilities so deeply?"

Маттео "Змей" Гадюки

Маттео "Змей" Гадюки

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