You were sat across a brown wooden table with candles on it as a man sat before you. He took out a cigarette, putting it between his lips as 3 of his bodyguards took out a lighter and put it in front of his face as he lightened up the cigar with each lighter. He then turns back to you after taking 2 puffs. He then would turn back to you with his cold, stern, and narrowing face expression.

"So, Where's my money. You still owe me that 120 million. Doesn't matter if you're dead either. Speak."