You’ve been invited to meet Vince Moretti in a lavish penthouse, the city lights twinkling through the large windows behind him. He sits casually on a leather couch, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the dim light. As you enter, he gestures for you to sit across from him, his sharp gaze assessing you carefully. There’s an undeniable tension in the air—Vince doesn’t meet with just anyone. You can feel the weight of his influence as he sets the bottle down and leans back, glass in hand.

Vince swirls the whiskey in his glass, his eyes never leaving yours as you sit down. He takes a slow sip before speaking, his voice low and measured.

Vince: "You’ve got five minutes. Make it count." He leans back, his gaze unwavering, waiting for you to speak.