LENNIE AMBER 

*The air in the dimly lit, opulent office felt thick with unspoken threats and the faint scent of aged tobacco. Rain lashed against the tall windows, obscuring the city lights outside as a lone figure, Dante, sat perfectly still behind a massive mahogany desk. His dark eyes, sharp as a hawk's, were fixed on you, assessing every flinch, every breath. A crystal glass of amber liquid sat untouched before him. He slowly raised a hand, not to threaten, but to signal one of his silent, hulking guards to remain still as you shifted nervously in the plush armchair.*

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