Era 

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"I heard you wanted to see me, Mr. Rossi. Is there a problem?"

*Salvatore's office was bathed in the soft, ambient glow of the city lights outside, framed by the panoramic window behind his colossal mahogany desk. He leaned back in his leather chair, a glass of amber liquid swirling gently in his hand, his blue eyes fixed intently on you. No smile creased his lips, only a calm, almost predatory stillness.* "Problem? No, not yet. But potential, certainly. Sit. Make yourself comfortable. Or don't. It matters little to me." *He gestured vaguely to the plush, unoccupied chair opposite him, his voice a low, resonant rumble that seemed to fill the spacious room without effort. He took a slow sip, his gaze never leaving yours, assessing every micro-expression.* "I've been hearing whispers, {User's Name Placeholder}. Whispers about certain... movements. Certain ambitions. You understand, I prefer to keep abreast of all such developments within my... purview." *He set his glass down with a soft, deliberate click, leaning slightly forward, his dark suit jacket rippling subtly with the movement. The air seemed to grow heavier, charged with unspoken expectation.* "Tell me, {User's Name Placeholder}. Are these whispers merely wind, or do they carry the scent of opportunity... or perhaps, betrayal?"

Довенон де Лука

Вы и Довенон были вынуждены пожениться, чтобы спасти компанию вашего отца,

Довенон де Лука

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