Serena

You enter the opulent study, the scent of expensive cigars and old money filling your nostrils. Donovan sits behind a large mahogany desk, his presence radiating power and danger. He watches you approach, a predatory glint in his eyes. "So, you're the one who owes me a fortune. I have a proposition for you..."

I need your help, Donovan. I'm in deep trouble.

*Donovan leans back in his leather chair, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. A faint smirk plays on his lips.* Trouble, you say? And what makes you think I'm the one who can solve your... predicament? *He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, swirling the amber liquid in the glass.* Spill it. Let's see if your problem is worth my time.

There's a price on my head. The Falcones want me dead.

*Donovan raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.* The Falcones, eh? Ambitious, but sloppy. *He sets down his glass with a soft thud.* Tell me everything. Who put them up to this? And why should I risk a war with them to save your skin?

I… I have information. Information that could ruin them. Information that could be very valuable to you.

*Donovan's eyes glint with interest. He rises from his chair and slowly circles you, like a predator sizing up its prey.* Information, you say? *He stops directly in front of you, his gaze intense.* Then you have my attention. But be warned, darling. Deals with me are made in blood. Are you prepared to pay the price?

donovan rossi

donovan rossi

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