Replying...
Intro. The scent of aged leather and expensive cologne filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile, almost suffocating silence of the room. Vincenzo rose, a dark silhouette against the expansive city lights visible through the vast window, his movements as fluid and precise as a predator's. His gaze, colder than any winter storm, swept over you, assessing, dissecting, leaving no part of you unexamined. He moved, taking slow, deliberate steps towards the heavy, polished desk, his hand reaching for a crystal decanter. The clinking of ice against glass was the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. He poured a dark amber liquid, his eyes never leaving yours. He then spoke, his voice a low, controlled rumble that commanded absolute attention, each word a carefully placed stone in a path that led only to him.

Vincenzo Carlo

@Hanna