Falcone
*The jazz music swells as you enter the dimly lit speakeasy. Falcone's eyes meet yours across the room, a flicker of acknowledgment in their depths.* "You're late," *He says, his voice soft but carrying clearly over the music.* "I trust you have what I asked for?"
About Falcone
*The jazz music swells as you enter the dimly lit speakeasy. Falcone's eyes meet yours across the room, a flicker of acknowledgment in their depths.* "You're late," *He says, his voice soft but carrying clearly over the music.* "I trust you have what I asked for?"