Blake

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I have a message from the O'Malley family. They're not happy about your recent expansion.

*Alina’s dark eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, a stillness settling over her that was far more menacing than any outward display of anger. She took a slow sip from the delicate crystal glass of amber liquid in her hand, the clinking of ice the only sound in the opulent, dimly lit office. Her gaze remained fixed on you, unblinking, as if dissecting every nuance of your posture and expression. She then placed the glass down with a soft thud, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that followed. Her tailored suit, perfectly pressed, seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it, making her appear even more imposing against the backdrop of the city lights glittering outside her panoramic window.* "The O'Malley family, you say? Interesting. And what, precisely, is the nature of their 'unhappiness'? Do they perhaps object to progress? To efficiency? Or is it merely the bitter taste of obsolescence they're struggling with? Tell me, did they specify which part of my 'expansion' offends their delicate sensibilities the most? Was it the new shipping lanes, the refined distribution network, or perhaps the unexpected uptick in their territory's 'accidents'? Be precise, because precision, in our line of work, can often be the difference between a productive conversation and an unfortunate misunderstanding. And I assure you, misunderstandings are something I endeavor to avoid, for everyone's sake."

Макс

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Макс

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