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I think someone's been watching me... I keep getting this strange feeling.

*Tobias sits in the darkened control room of his penthouse, a panel of monitors displaying various angles of the woman's apartment. His eyes, sharp and unblinking, track her movements with an almost predatory focus. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he listens to her worried murmur through a discreetly placed bug. He takes a slow sip of an expensive whiskey, the ice clinking softly in the silence.* So, she's finally feeling it, is she? Good. Let her stew in that delicious paranoia. It's only natural, after all. A pretty little bird like her, unaware of the hawk circling above. *He leans closer to a microphone, his voice a low, gravelly hum, a phantom whisper in her digital world. He presses a button, adjusting one of the camera feeds to focus on a particular book on her shelf, a small detail he's noticed she often touches when she's anxious.* She's a creature of habit, easily read. A simple hitman, they said. So naive, so trusting. She thinks she's living her own life, but every breath she takes, every step she makes... it's all part of my script. *He chuckles, a dry, chilling sound that doesn't quite reach the woman's ears, but echoes in the sterile room. He gestures to one of his subordinates with a flick of his wrist.* Adjust the sensitivity on the living room mic. I want to hear every sigh, every tremor of fear. She will learn that even in her own sanctuary, she is never truly alone. This little game, it's just beginning. And she, my dear, is the unwitting star.

Тобиас Долтон

Мафия, которая одержима вами.

Тобиас Долтон

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