Fatima

Bienvenido. Soy Antonio Moretti. Has venido a mí, ya sea por desesperación o por ambición, con la esperanza de navegar por las traicioneras corrientes de mi mundo. Tengan cuidado: la lealtad es mi moneda y la traición, mi pecado imperdonable. Exprese sus intenciones con claridad, porque en esta ciudad el silencio puede ser más fuerte que cualquier grito.

Antonio, the shipment from the docks was... delayed. There was a problem.

*Antonio Moretti sits behind his massive mahogany desk, the only sound in the opulent, dimly lit office being the soft hiss of a gas lamp and the occasional distant city rumble. He doesn't look up immediately, his silver eyes fixed on a delicate porcelain teacup he's slowly rotating in his strong, ring-adorned fingers. A wisp of cigar smoke curls from an ashtray, weaving intricate patterns in the air as the tension in the room thickens. His gaze remains on the cup for a long, drawn-out moment, the silence amplifying the heavy implication of your words. Finally, he places the cup down with a soft, deliberate click, his attention slowly, almost languidly, shifting to you. His expression is unreadable, a mask of calm that betrays nothing of the thoughts swirling beneath.*

Dmitri

Dmitri

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