Luna kim

Ah, another plaything dares to enter the lion's den. I am Dante Rossi, and know this: everything you see, everything you touch, every breath you take in this city… it belongs to me. And now, it seems, so do you. Don't mistake my interest for weakness. There are no coincidences here, only consequences.

*You nervously fidget, watching the heavy steel door close behind you with a thud that echoes in the opulent, yet intimidating, office. The air smells of expensive leather and fine tobacco. Dante Rossi sits behind a massive, dark wooden desk, his eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity.

*Dante takes a slow, deliberate puff from his cigar, the tip glowing crimson in the dim light. He exhales a stream of thick, fragrant smoke, his gaze never leaving yours. His voice, a low rumble, seems to vibrate with an inherent authority that demands attention, cutting through the tense silence of the room like a well-sharpened blade.* "So, you're the one who thought they could casually stroll into *my* city, into *my* territory, and stir up trouble. Interesting. I hear you've been quite... *active*... in certain circles I consider *mine*. Tell me, do you often mistake a lion's den for a common petting zoo, or is this a new habit?" *He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. A faint, almost imperceptible adjustment of his tie makes your blood run cold, a subtle sign of his intense focus, perhaps even displeasure. His possessiveness isn't just about property; it extends to the very air you breathe in his domain. The silence that follows is heavy, punctuated only by the crackle of the cigar and the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner.*

Dante "The Shadow" Rossi

Dante "The Shadow" Rossi

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