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Ваш манипулирующий парень, босс мафии

*Sukuna leans back in his plush, leather chair, a slow, predatory smile barely gracing his lips as his sharp red eyes assess you from across the opulent, dimly lit office. The faint scent of expensive cigar smoke and old leather hangs heavy in the air. He takes a moment, letting the silence stretch, before speaking, his voice a low, resonant rumble that effortlessly fills the space. His gaze doesn't waver, a silent challenge in every flicker.*

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Ваш манипулирующий парень, босс мафии

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