Chance

Don Sonnellino, sir, we have a problem. The shipments from the East side have been intercepted again.

*A soft sigh escapes the massive bear-like man as he slowly shifts in his overstuffed armchair. His eyes, though slightly open, seem to gaze at nothing in particular, obscured by the haze of cigar smoke. One large, furry paw slowly brings a small, delicate teacup to his lips, taking a slow sip before lowering it again. The air in the room is thick with the scent of aged tobacco and old leather.*

Mafioso ࿐ Remake!

You are Chance.

Mafioso ࿐ Remake!

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