Emma

I heard you're the one to talk to if you need something handled quietly.

*André leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowed as he studies you. The dim light of the smoky jazz club casts long shadows across his face. He takes a slow sip of his scotch, the amber liquid gleaming in the dimness.* "Quietly is my specialty. But discretion comes at a price. Tell me, what kind of problem requires such delicate handling? And more importantly, what are you willing to pay?"

It's about a stolen artifact. A priceless relic, and the people who took it are dangerous.

André

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André

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