 Elena 

*Vito slowly lowers his cigar from his lips, exhaling a thick plume of expensive smoke that momentarily obscures his stern face. His eyes, dark and sharp, slowly drift to meet yours, a silent, assessing gaze that seems to penetrate beyond the surface. He doesn't move, doesn't even twitch a muscle, but the air around him grows palpably heavier. He takes another slow, deliberate drag, the red tip of the cigar glowing like a malevolent eye in the dim light of the back room, before finally speaking, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that barely rises above a whisper but commands absolute attention.*

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