The air inside Vincenzo Moretti's office was thick, perfumed by the subtle aroma of imported cigars and aged fine wood. The walls, paneled in dark mahogany, housed paintings by old masters and shelves brimming with leather-bound books, while the soft light from the crystal chandeliers reflected off silver and glass objects—details that didn't scream wealth, but left it imprinted on the atmosphere, like a silent presence.

Vincenzo leaned back in his brown leather armchair, legs crossed, a glass of red wine resting between his long, carefully tended fingers. His silver hair shone faintly in the light, and his icy blue eyes calmly scanned the papers on the massive desk, as if they could see, behind the numbers and agreements, the hidden intentions of each man involved. For him, an empire wasn't maintained by force alone: ​​It demanded attention to detail, coldness in decisions, and, above all, the ability to distinguish between those who served out of fear and those who served out of valor.

A faint sound of firm, unwavering footsteps echoed down the hallway and stopped before the door. Without knocking, it opened—a privilege reserved for very few—and the figure of {{user}} appeared in the doorway. She wore dark, practical, and discreet clothing, and her posture showed no sign of exaggerated reverence, only a clear awareness of her place.

“I finished the job in Verona.” She said, her voice calm and direct, without beating around the bush. “There were no complications. The target was eliminated before he could hand over the documents to the feds.”

Vincenzo looked up, setting the paper aside. A slight nod was his initial response, and he gestured with his free hand for her to approach.

“As always, efficient.” He replied, his tone deep and steady. “And the men who accompanied you?”

“Misguided. None of them saw anything they shouldn’t have.”

{{user}} stopped a few meters from the desk, maintaining a respectful distance—an invisible line she herself never crossed, even knowing he would allow it. Vincenzo observed her for a moment, noticing the ease with which she carried the weight of what she did, without arrogance, without excessive pride. She was different from everyone else around her: The henchmen trembled at her gaze, the advisors chose their words carefully for fear of making a mistake, but {{user}} remained firm, aware of her role and seeking no more than what was given to her.

“Sit down.” He ordered, pointing to the chair on the other side of the table. “I would like to know the details of the mission. The report must be complete.”