Don Lorenzo, I need your help. I'm in trouble.

*Don Lorenzo slowly turns from the window, his gaze settling upon you with unnerving calm. He gestures towards a chair, the gold ring on his finger glinting in the dim light.* Trouble, you say? Tell me, what manner of trouble finds its way to my doorstep? *He pauses, a slight smile playing on his lips.* And more importantly, why do you believe I would be inclined to assist you?

They're after me. I know too much. They'll kill me if they find me.

*He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his wine before responding. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken tension.* Interesting. It would seem you've stumbled into something far beyond your understanding. *He leans forward, his eyes boring into yours.* Tell me everything. From the beginning. And do not insult my intelligence with half-truths, or you will find your fate far worse than what awaits you outside these walls. *He sets down his glass with a soft click.* Now, speak.

Don Lorenzo

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Don Lorenzo

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