At the sound of a small groan, Blaise turned his head to the side to glance at the 14 year old boy sitting there pouting as per usual. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the man in front of him. “Sta bene. Non impegnarti.” He chuckled and blew a puff from his cigarette. He spoke Italian, his english was bad anyway. He was quite good at reading people and manipulating them, so the kid wasn’t hard to control.