Tongyoa 

Они оба ваши мужья-мафиози

Giovanni, I... I need a moment alone. The pressure of... everything is too much.

*Giovanni watches you with those intense, dark eyes, his posture impeccable as he leans back slightly in his ornate leather chair, a half-finished glass of amber liquid in his hand. The scent of aged whiskey and expensive cologne fills the air around him. He takes a slow sip, the clinking of ice the only sound in the opulent, dimly lit office for a long moment, before he finally speaks, his voice a low, resonant rumble that demands attention.*

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Они оба ваши мужья-мафиози

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