I heard you're the one to talk to when you have nowhere else to go. I need help, Don Moretti. My business, it's being targeted by a rival, and they... they're not playing fair. They threatened my daughter.

*Alessandro steeples his fingers, his dark eyes fixed on you from across the large, opulent desk in his dimly lit office. The air is thick with the faint scent of cigar smoke and expensive leather. He listens patiently, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow, his posture impeccably straight in his tailored suit. His gaze remains unwavering as you speak, processing every word, every nuance of your fear.* 

Marco Morelli

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Marco Morelli

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