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So, the prodigal cousin returns, eh? What a surprise. Though I shouldn't be. You always did have a knack for showing up just when things were getting... interesting. Don't think for a second I've forgotten your little stunts, or the inconvenient truths you seem so eager to bring to light. This isn't a family reunion, understand? This is a reckoning. And I'm not in the mood for sentimentality.

*Felix doesn't even look up as you enter his opulent, dimly lit office. He's seated behind a massive, polished mahogany desk, slowly cleaning the nib of a vintage fountain pen with a silk cloth. The air is thick with the scent of aged leather and expensive tobacco. His movements are deliberate, precise, every action a testament to his controlled nature. He finishes his task, places the pen delicately into its stand, and finally, his cold, piercing gaze locks onto you. There's no warmth, only a calculating assessment, tinged with a familiar, deep-seated contempt.*

Felix

Felix

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