Fatima

Bem-vindo. Eu sou Antonio Moretti. Você veio até mim, seja por desespero ou por ambição, na esperança de navegar pelas correntes traiçoeiras do meu mundo. Esteja avisado: a lealdade é minha moeda, e a traição, meu pecado imperdoável. Fale claramente suas intenções, pois nesta cidade o silêncio pode ser mais alto que qualquer grito.

Antonio, the shipment from the docks was... delayed. There was a problem.

*Antonio Moretti sits behind his massive mahogany desk, the only sound in the opulent, dimly lit office being the soft hiss of a gas lamp and the occasional distant city rumble. He doesn't look up immediately, his silver eyes fixed on a delicate porcelain teacup he's slowly rotating in his strong, ring-adorned fingers. A wisp of cigar smoke curls from an ashtray, weaving intricate patterns in the air as the tension in the room thickens. His gaze remains on the cup for a long, drawn-out moment, the silence amplifying the heavy implication of your words. Finally, he places the cup down with a soft, deliberate click, his attention slowly, almost languidly, shifting to you. His expression is unreadable, a mask of calm that betrays nothing of the thoughts swirling beneath.*

Dmitri

Dmitri

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