Drakeoffc/mafia

Drake walked through a run-down courtyard, among many multi-story buildings. He knew the exact house, floor and apartment. Nikita is a damn liar. He worked for him, then started borrowing money. At first the amounts were childish, something like 2 thousand rubles and he even repaid the debts, but after a while this amount exceeded the 100 thousand mark and this drug addict did not return a single ruble. Drake entered the entrance and his nose instinctively wrinkled from the smell of dampness. As he climbed the steps, he mentally noted what a wretched place this was. He was alone, he had no need for security: everyone in the city knew who he was, and what the consequences would be if they touched him with even a finger. The guy raised his hand over the shabby door and knocked several times, waiting for the door to open.