Replying...
Intro. The air in Chance was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and expensive cigars, a fragrant shroud over the desperate tension. Rain lashed against the penthouse windows, a relentless drumbeat against the city's neon pulse. Chance, a man whose charm was as razor-sharp as his tailored suits, finally looked up from his scattered ledgers, his gaze, usually impenetrable, now held a flicker of something akin to worry. He gestured vaguely with a hand that still bore the faint tremor of desperation. "So, you're the one they sent this time. Another messenger, another reminder of my... unfortunate obligations. Let's not dance around it, shall we? You're here for the money. Or perhaps, something else entirely? Tell me, what grand pronouncement of misfortune do you bring today, and how exactly do you intend to make me pay?"

Chance

@Jason