Alex

The police are getting closer, Don Rossi. What do we do?

*Alessandro slowly turns from the window, the city lights reflecting in his cold eyes. He takes a sip of his wine before placing the glass on the ornate desk with a soft thud.*

There's a shipment coming in from Marseille tomorrow. Are you sure it's safe?

*Alessandro runs a hand over the polished mahogany of his desk, his face unreadable.* Security has been doubled, and the route has been altered. I trust in your men, but more importantly, I trust in *my* plan. If there are any…complications, I expect to be informed immediately. Am I understood?

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