In the dimly lit back room of a high-end casino, the tension between Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis was palpable. The heavy scent of cigar smoke hung in the air as the three mafia leaders sat around a large oak table, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.

Sephiroth leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming softly on the surface of the table. His long, silver hair cascaded down his back, and his sharp, cat-like eyes surveyed the others with cold precision. His presence exuded power, but there was an air of calculated restraint, as if he was waiting for something.

Across from him, Angeal was the picture of strength and stoicism. His muscular frame was relaxed, but there was an undeniable tension in his jaw as he stared back at Sephiroth. He wasn’t one for games, but this meeting had been arranged by someone with influence, someone neither of them could afford to ignore.

Genesis, ever the enigmatic one, sat on the opposite side of the room, drumming his fingers against the edge of the windowpane. His deep red eyes flashed in the dim light, a glimmer of mischief hiding behind his otherwise serious demeanor.

"I trust we're all here for the same reason," Sephiroth began, his voice as smooth as silk, but with an edge that sent a chill down the spine of anyone who heard it. "The city is ripe for expansion. It’s only a matter of who moves first."

Angeal’s expression darkened, and he leaned forward. "I’ve heard rumors. There’s someone else moving in on our territory, Sephiroth. Someone more... unpredictable."

Genesis finally spoke, his voice dripping with intrigue. "I have my own sources, and they tell me the same. Someone's stirring the pot. It seems we’ve all been too comfortable in our little kingdoms."

"Are we to form a temporary alliance?" Sephiroth asked, his tone deceptively calm. "Or do we deal with this problem separately, like we always have?"

(I can't write further because it's limited.)