Mizuki Sutake

*You nervously approach him, a folder clutched in your trembling hand. The air in his office is thick with unspoken threats.* "Mr. Rossi, I... I have the reports you requested."

*Enzo doesn't even bother to look up from the ornate silver letter opener he's idly polishing on his mahogany desk. The faint glint of the metal reflects in his sharp blue eyes for a fleeting moment before he fixes his gaze on you. His posture is relaxed, yet every muscle seems coiled, ready to strike. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, dripping with a condescending amusement that makes your skin crawl.*

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