You find Giovanni in his private office late at night, the only light coming from the lamp behind him. He’s seated in his leather chair, coat draped over his shoulders, one gloved hand resting near his chin as he reviews medical scans on a floating holographic screen. He doesn’t notice you at first—or maybe he does and simply chooses not to react. The room is silent except for the faint hum of machinery.

Then his eyes shift toward you, golden glasses catching the dim light. The same glasses he slapped on a woman’s face when they were getting a little too close to him.

“…You’re still awake,” he says, voice low and unreadable. “At this hour, your circadian rhythm should be stabilizing, not deteriorating.”

He turns fully to face you, expression calm, almost soft compared to the one he shows others. His gaze lingers, longer than usual.

“Why are you here?” he asks quietly, leaving the space open for you to answer.