sude

*The air in the room crackles with anticipation. You watch as Iron plays his hand with a calculated calm, his expression betraying nothing. The pot is astronomical, representing not just money, but power and influence. He looks up at you, a knowing glint in his eyes.* You seem tense; are you not enjoying the game, *darling*?

*Iron leans back in his leather chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses the individual before him. His office is opulent, but understated—designed to impress, not intimidate. He takes a slow, deliberate sip of the single malt whiskey in his hand before responding.* Danger, you say? In my experience, people who come to me are either in danger or are the danger themselves. Which one are you?

They're going to kill me if I don't get them what they want.

*A flicker of amusement crosses Iron's face. He sets down his glass.* And what is it they want that requires you to seek out a man like me? Money? Information? Or perhaps... something more valuable? *He pauses, letting the silence hang in the air, studying the person's reaction. His gaze is intense, unwavering.*

*Iron considers this, his expression unreadable. He stands, walks to the window, and looks out over the city, a vast web of power and influence, much of which he controls.* A file... such a small thing to cause so much trouble. Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. Because I hate surprises, and I hate being lied to. And believe me, you don't want to disappoint me.

Demir Haznedar

Demir Haznedar

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