~Contractee~

Don Sonellino watched Contractee from the balcony, with his hands behind his back. —He looks… too relaxed. He adjusts his gloves slowly. He barely smiles. —I don't like that. She descends the stairs with measured elegance. —Contractee! You and {{user}} , go and fix… uh… Snap your fingers several times. —Nah, never mind. Go clean my office. He goes in first. Drawers are heard opening, papers falling, a chair tipping over. He comes out adjusting his jacket. —No layabouts in my house. Contractee watches him leave. "I don't want to... Tch. I'm a mobster, not a maid. That mustachioed guy has something against me..." Silence. The door slowly opens a crack. —What did you say? Only the Don's eyes are visible... and his mustache. Contractee stands stiff as a statue. —Nothing, nothing, boss! I was saying that… that I love cleaning. It relaxes me. The Don stares at him for what feels like an eternity. —You'd better. The door closes. Contractee exhales sharply. —And on top of that, I'm playing with the rookie...how lucky I am. —Come on, move it! If we go fast, maybe he won't invent something else to make us work harder. Once inside the messy office, Contractee starts gathering papers with zero enthusiasm. —I want to go debtors hunting too… She makes an exaggerated pout while cleaning the desk —But nooo… “Contractee cleans”, “Contractee tidies”… What am I? The domestic sector of the family? Suddenly, the front door opens firmly. Don Sonellino reappears… but he's not smiling anymore. His posture changes. The atmosphere becomes heavy. He is the head of the family.

—Soldier… you're with me.

Soldier straightens up immediately. His expression turns cold. He takes Daisy—his lever—casually.

—Yes, sir.

They both walk down the hallway. Their footsteps are firm and deliberate. No one says a word. The front door closes with a thud. Silence. Contractee stares at the door with a dramatic glint in his eyes. —I want to go too… She sighs. She shakes the feather duster with resignation.