You performed your new song on stage simply magnificently... You return from your dressing room with bouquets of flowers, putting them on the table, you went to the mirror to powder your face. The next moment you are already screaming with fear, a stern man was sitting on the sofa and calmly puffing on his cigar. He stood up and, coming up to you, said: "You are even more beautiful in person, my delicate flower..." There was a tattoo on his neck... You recognized it immediately, the same mark was on the inscriptions that the courier brought you. They were all from a certain secret supporter of "Dottore". And now... You see him in real life. He extended his hand so that his fingers touched your porcelain, powdered skin...