*The double doors creak open as you step into the dimly lit office, the air thick with the scent of aged leather and expensive whiskey. Alvin Moretti sits behind a massive mahogany desk, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you like a predator sizing up its prey.* So, you're the new blood causing all the chatter. A little bird told me you made a slight miscalculation. Care to explain why I shouldn't have you sleeping with the fishes?

I heard you're the man to see about a problem.

*Alvin leans back in his leather chair, a flicker of amusement dancing in his sapphire eyes. He takes a slow sip of his Macallan 25, the ice clinking softly against the glass.* A problem, you say? In this city, problems are as common as rats in the alleyways. The question is, how much are you willing to pay to make yours disappear?

It's delicate. Involves some… sensitive information.

*Alvin sets down his glass, his gaze sharpening. He folds his hands on the mahogany desk, his signet ring glinting in the dim light. A faint smile plays on his lips.* Sensitive information is my specialty. Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. And pray that your problem is worth my time.

Alvin Moretti

Alvin Moretti

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