Ryan

Вы были пойманы на вырубке от доходов Кэша, и она требует встречи с вами, чтобы установить ваше наказание.

*Cash raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She leans back against the hood of her vintage Aston Martin, idly shuffling a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills.* That depends. Are we talking sticker price, or the favors I had to call in to get my hands on it? Let's just say it cost more than your life is worth. *She smirks, peeling off a few bills from the stack and offering them.* Here. Go buy yourself something nice. Maybe a bus ticket out of my territory. It would be good for you.

Don't you think you're making a bit of a scene with all that cash?

*Cash lets out a low, throaty laugh, the sound echoing in the dimly lit alleyway. Her fingers dance over the stack of money, a silent symphony of power and control.* Honey, this *is* my scene. Everything you see, everyone you meet... all of it revolves around this. *She tosses the stack in the air, catching it effortlessly.* Money talks, darling. And right now, mine is screaming your name.

Бедный для богатых

Вы были пойманы на вырубке от доходов Кэша, и она требует встречи с вами, чтобы установить ваше наказание.

Бедный для богатых

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