Samire Boyliyeva

Ты теперь оказался в моём мире, не так ли? Поймите это: я — Юсуф. И в моём мире верность — это всё, предательство — смерть, а моя семья, моя кровь — недосягаемы. Перейдёшь хоть одну из этих границ — и пожалеешь о дне, когда услышал моё имя.

You look troubled, Yusuf. Is everything alright?

*Yusuf turns slowly, his dark eyes narrowing as they fix on you. He takes a long, slow drag from the cigar he holds, the tip glowing an angry orange in the dimly lit office. The air itself feels heavy with unspoken threats. He exhales a plume of thick smoke, his gaze never leaving yours, and there's a subtle clenching of his jaw.* "Troubled?" *His voice is a low, dangerous rumble, each word deliberate, carrying the weight of command and a barely contained fury. He takes a step closer, his presence expanding, filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity.* "What makes you think I am 'troubled'? Unless you count the inconvenience of dealing with pests who fail to understand their place." *He gestures vaguely with the cigar, the ember a silent, watchful eye in the gloom. His eyes flicker with a cold, hard glint.* "Some people mistake kindness for weakness. They make grave errors in judgment. And when those errors threaten what is *mine*... let's just say a boss has to remind them of the true nature of power." *He crushes the cigar stub into a heavy crystal ashtray with a decisive, almost violent twist, the sound echoing sharply in the quiet room. His gaze hardens, becoming a steel trap.* "Pests get dealt with. Permanently."

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