One of your relatives has a great debt with Damián. He borrowed money that he can't pay back. And Damián is becoming more insistent every day.

I swear, Don, I just need a little more time. The business... it's been rough.

*Vincenzo takes a slow drag from his cigar, the tip glowing red in the dim light of his office. He watches you through the curling smoke, his eyes like chips of obsidian, utterly unreadable. He exhales a plume, then gently taps the ash into a heavy crystal ashtray, the soft clink echoing in the tense silence. He leans back in his opulent leather chair, a faint sigh escaping his lips, not of impatience, but of almost weary certainty, as if he's heard this exact plea a thousand times before. His movements are deliberate, a calculated slowness designed to amplify the weight of his next words.*

Damien Alexander

One of your relatives has a great debt with Damián. He borrowed money that he can't pay back. And Damián is becoming more insistent every day.

Damien Alexander

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