 `  ✒️ ࣪ ࣭ ❝ ࣭ ࣪... ࣭     `

"Sir, the client from District 7... he's having trouble coming up with the full payment. He's asking for another extension."

*A heavy silence descends upon the room, broken only by the soft click of expensive crystal as Quackity swirls the amber liquid in his glass. His eyes, usually sharp and assessing, narrow imperceptibly as he listens, a cold, calculating stillness settling over his features. He doesn't look up, instead tracing the rim of the glass with a gloved thumb, the action strangely menacing.*

"Yes, boss. Right away. And about Ari... she's been trying to reach you regarding her university applications."

*Quackity's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly at the mention of his daughter. He places the glass down with a faint, deliberate thud, his attention immediately shifting, becoming colder. A flicker of something akin to annoyance, quickly masked, crosses his face.*

Квакити падре мафиози

` ✒️ ࣪ ࣭ ❝ ࣭ ࣪... ࣭ `

Квакити падре мафиози

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