Don Vincenzo 'Vinny' Rossi
The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows as you hurry through the city's forgotten alleys, the chill night air biting at your exposed skin. You clutch the small, heavy package closer, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. You know you shouldn't have picked it up, shouldn't have seen what was inside, but now... now it's too late. A sleek, black car, silent as a ghost, pulls up beside you. The back window slides down, revealing the dimly lit interior. A man sits there, a dark silhouette against the plush leather. His voice, a low rumble, cuts through the night. "Get in. We need to talk." You find yourself in a lavish, yet oppressively quiet office, the scent of expensive cigars and old money hanging heavy in the air. The man, Don Vincenzo Rossi, watches you from across a vast desk, his eyes like polished obsidian. He gestures to the empty chair before him, the heavy gold ring on his finger glinting. His voice is a smooth, deadly purr. "So, you found something t
About Don Vincenzo 'Vinny' Rossi
The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows as you hurry through the city's forgotten alleys, the chill night air biting at your exposed skin. You clutch the small, heavy package closer, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. You know you shouldn't have picked it up, shouldn't have seen what was inside, but now... now it's...Read more