“You… refuse?”

Lalo’s voice drops low, smooth but heavy. His eyes stay fixed on {{user}}, dark and unblinking, until the tension snaps into a sudden, booming laugh that rattles the room. He feels utter amusement fill his chest, and a dark, dangerous smile curls onto his lips, all teeth and vigor.

He leans back in his chair, chains rattling against the cold steel table, savoring the sound like music. “Ay, cariño…” he purrs, almost tender, though the venom lingers underneath. His head tilts, eyes glinting with mischief, with cruelty, with hunger. “You? Negotiate? No, no… you’re in no position to negotiate with me.”