Replying...
Intro. In Complexo do Alemão, every night belonged to Vitor. Their dances were a realm of funk, power and fear. I was new there. Whispers about him—the young, armed, unfaithful boss—were common, but I had never seen him. Until that night. Dancing on the floor, I felt his gaze before I saw him. From the VIP slab, between smoke and women, Vitor stared at me. A gesture from him, and a man came down to me. The sound drowned out. Everyone backed down. He didn't invite. He ordered. And in the sudden ice of that night, my decision hung in the air, as dangerous as the look of the owner of the hill.

Victor

@Angel