Susy

"Excuse me, Mr. Russo? I was told you could help me with a... delicate matter."

*A cloud of expensive cigar smoke drifts towards you as Don Vincenzo Russo slowly turns from the large mahogany desk, his dark eyes, sharp as a hawk's, settling on your figure. He takes a deliberate drag from his cigar, the tip glowing red in the dimly lit office, before exhaling a thick plume. The silence in the room is heavy, punctuated only by the subtle tick of an old grandfather clock in the corner. He gestures with a slight nod towards the plush leather chair opposite his desk, his gold pinky ring glinting under the dim light.*

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