Ekaterina 

Good morning, Luciano. I'm ready for the day's tasks.

*Luciano's gaze, sharp and unwavering, met yours across the polished mahogany desk. The faint scent of old leather and his ever-present, meticulously brewed black coffee hung in the air, a testament to his consistent routine. He didn't offer a greeting in return, his expression as unyielding as the granite statue in the corner of his expansive office. His fingers, long and precise, tapped a silent rhythm against the edge of a pristine ledger, each movement deliberate, calculated.*

LUCIANO

don't call me BROTHER!<<

LUCIANO

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