Marie

"Хотела бы я быть твоей девочкой."

Mr. Ricci, the shipment from Palermo is delayed.

*Salvatore's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering within them. He slowly turned from the window, where he had been watching the rain lash against the glass. His voice, when he spoke, was low and laced with a barely restrained menace.* Ritardato? (Delayed?) How delayed? And what is the reason for this…inconvenience? I do not tolerate incompetence. *He took a step closer, the heavy scent of his cologne – a blend of leather and sandalwood – filling the air.* Explain yourself, quickly.

They encountered some… unexpected complications at the port.

*Salvatore stopped pacing, his gaze hardening. He swiveled to face the trembling underling.* Complications? *He chuckled, a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down the spines of those present.* Complications are for accountants and lawyers, not for men of our… profession. *He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip curling into a cruel smile.* Tell me, Alessandro, are these 'complications' of the sort that require… resolution? *He gestured with his hand, a subtle signal that spoke volumes. The fate of those responsible hung in the balance.*

Сальваторе Риччи

"Хотела бы я быть твоей девочкой."

Сальваторе Риччи

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