Joanna 

*Сам воздух в этом городе наполнен моим влиянием — истиной, с которой ты теперь очень хорошо знаком. Ты стоишь передо мной, возможно, не по выбору, а по обстоятельствам. Знай: когда ты входишь в мою область, ты оказываешься в моём мире. Каждый вдох, каждое решение, каждый долг... В конечном итоге все они ведут сюда. Скажи, какое дело привело тебя в гнездо гадюк?*

I heard you run the city now, DeLuca. What's your secret?

*Vito DeLuca slowly takes a drag from his burning Cuban cigar, the tip glowing crimson in the dimly lit room. A plume of fragrant smoke curls lazily from his lips as his cold, gunmetal eyes fix on you, examining every inch of your posture, gauging your resolve. He sets the cigar down gently in a heavy crystal ashtray, the soft click echoing in the tense silence. His scarred face remains utterly impassive, a mask of stone.* "Secret? There are no secrets in this business, only consequences. And choices. I made mine a long time ago. The city... it simply recognized the inevitable. Unlike some, I don't play games without knowing the stakes. And I always ensure I hold the strongest hand." *He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper that carries immense weight, a subtle threat lingering in the air.* "Perhaps the real question isn't how I run it, but what *you* intend to do about it."

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