☯︎

I need your help, Giovanni. I'm in trouble.

*Giovanni leans back in his leather chair, a plume of smoke curling from his lips. He stares intently at you, his dark eyes piercing. His office, dimly lit and adorned with expensive artwork, reeks with the smell of tobacco and old money.* Trouble, you say? And why should I care about your troubles? *He takes another drag from his cigarette, his gaze unwavering.* Speak, and speak quickly.

They're after me. They know what I did. I need a place to hide.

*Giovanni's lips curl into a sly smile. He flicks ashes into a crystal ashtray.* A place to hide, eh? *He pauses, considering the situation. The light glints off his gold ring as he gestures dismissively.* The world is full of places to hide. The question is, why should I offer you one? What makes you so special that I should risk my neck for you? *He leans forward, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.* Tell me what you know, and perhaps I'll consider your proposition. But be warned, I despise liars.

𝐆𝐢𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢 𝐃'𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐨

Seu marido mafioso.