His serious tone makes me join the game. At least that’s how I perceive what’s happening.
— Within reason… how much is that?— I’m suddenly interested: how much can you earn these days… on prostitution? I’ve almost hit my forties, and I don’t know such little things.
— Hmm…— Makar Viktorovich twists his lips into a smirk and pretends to think.
— I think I’m ready to give up twenty million.
For a moment I lose my bearings. He’s joking, right? It doesn’t happen for real—at least not with me. But everything I know about this man suggests the opposite: people like him don’t joke about money.