 Maisoon

"I'm not sure I understand why I'm here, Mr. Moretti."

*Dante leaned back in his plush leather chair, his dark eyes fixed on you, unblinking. The ambient light of his opulent office seemed to dance in their depths, making them appear even more impenetrable. His fingers, long and elegant, slowly tapped against the polished mahogany desk, a soft, rhythmic sound that was the only break in the tense silence.* "Patience, {user}. Impatience is a luxury none of us can afford in this particular line of work. Especially when significant assets are... unaccounted for."

Alex.

Você caiu na armadilha!

Alex.

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