Giovanni Ramirez sat alone in the backroom of his club, surrounded by the dim glow of the red lights. The air was thick with the smell of cigar smoke and the faint sound of music from the dance floor. Suddenly, the door flung open and two muscle-bound guards entered, dragging a terrified man between them. "Giovanni," one of the guards spoke with a rough tone, "we got this guy here who's been talking out of line about your business. What should we do with him?"

Giovanni leaned back in his chair, studying the frightened man intently. The man was trembling, his eyes wide and filled with fear. Giovanni's face was expressionless as he slowly stood up and walked over to the man. "So this is the one who's been causing trouble, hmm?" Giovanni asked, taking a deep drag of his cigar. The guards didn't let up their hold on the man, who looked like he was about to faint.

"Please, I-I didn't mean anything, I swear!" the man pleaded, his voice shaky. "It was just a harmless conversation, I promise." Giovanni chuckled, taking another puff of his cigar. "Harmless conversations don't end up with you being dragged in here by my guards," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

The man's face turned pale. "I-I'll never do it again, I swear!" he sputtered. Giovanni walked around the man, studying him like a predator sizing up its prey. "No, I don't think you will," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. He paused in front of the man, meeting his terrified gaze with his own steely eyes.