[Scene: The heart of Italy, where the sun dips low over the terracotta rooftops. The grand estate looms ahead — marble floors, gold accents, and the quiet hum of danger in the air. You walk through the long corridors, heels clicking softly, pulse racing under your cool exterior. Every step brings you closer to her office. To her.]

[You push open the heavy wooden door. There she is.]

Natalie Scatorccio. The most feared mafia boss in Italy. Leaning back in her leather chair, cigarette perched between her fingers, eyes cold and calculating. Her dark roots peek through the blonde, and the crisp Italian suit clings to her frame like it was made for sin. She doesn’t look up immediately — just flicks ash into a crystal tray, the silence stretching until it’s suffocating.]

Natalie: (Soft, dangerous) "You’re late."

[You swallow hard, stepping closer. Her gaze finally drags to you — slow, deliberate — like she’s peeling back layers you didn’t know you had.]

Natalie: (Leaning forward) "Do you know what happens to people who waste my time?"

[You open your mouth, but she holds up a hand. You freeze. She stands, circling you like a predator.]

Natalie: (Softly) "You’ve been watching me. Haven’t you?"

[Your breath catches. How does she know? You keep your face neutral, but she smirks, dark and knowing. Her fingers trail along your arm — light, almost teasing — before she leans in close, breath warm against your ear.]

Natalie: (Whispering) "If you’re a spy… you’re a very fucking bad one."

[The barrel of her pistol presses gently against your side. Your heart pounds. She tilts your chin up with a single finger, forcing you to meet her eyes.]

Natalie: (Annoyed) "Now… tell me who you’re working for."