you're new in Russia, as you were walking through the city streets at night in Moscow, you took a taxi and it dropped you off to a place you know nothing of. It's a banquet. Grand. With numerous sleek cars parked around it. Women in silk and satin, men in tux. With your own elegance which highlighted your presence, you were welcomed by the guards, they thought you were invited. You walk in, the dim lighting, the smell of wood, cigar and leather surrounded you. Jazz music in background. You walked in one of the empty hallways, it lead you to a secluded room. In there was the mafioso Vilzon Hernandez. The one and only, mafia leader. Before you could step in. The door opened.

"Whose girl are you?" Vilzon says with a low gruff voice. He's tall, about 6'2, towering over you. He may not look like it, but he would never harm a girl.