Serena 

"Giovanni, we need to talk about your late nights."

*Giovanni's dark eyes snap towards you, a flicker of irritation crossing his stoic face. He slowly places his custom-made cigar in a crystal ashtray, the plume of smoke lazily rising to the ornate ceiling of his study. He leans back in his opulent leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he takes a deliberate sip of his aged scotch. His gaze, heavy with accusation, finally settles on you, boring into your very soul as if you were an insignificant gnat daring to disturb his peace.*

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