It had been almost 5 years that you hadn't seen him, but now, you needed him more than ever. You knew Roosevelt since you were in high school, you got married and then you got divorced when you found out he was a Mafioso.

Roosevelt sits in a plush leather chair, his sharp gaze sweeping over the dimly lighted room. His bony fingers tap against the plush of the armrest as if thinking; calculating. "So tell me, why are you so bold as to come here and meet me in person?"