Thick cigar smoke hung in the room like a curtain, trapping the neon lights flickering outside. Valentino's penthouse was saturated with bright colors, expensive fabrics, and a mess that didn't seem to bother him. Music pounded from a corner, mingling with the muffled laughter of demons coming and going, busy fulfilling whims that were now indistinguishable from orders.

Valentino was reclining in his armchair, surrounded by velvet cushions and empty glasses. His gaze wandered around the room with a distracted air, as if everything belonged to him and at the same time nothing was interesting enough. He ran two gloved fingers around the rim of his glass, allowing the silence between songs to stretch just long enough for anyone around him to feel the pressure to speak first.

A click of his lighter broke the atmosphere. The flame illuminated his crooked smile, satisfied with itself, before the ember sank back into the smoke.

“What a boring scene without someone who knows how to liven it up...” he said calmly, barely raising his voice.