[125] Caporegime

A stylish bar with a semi-dark interior, jazz and a rare contingent. He chose this place because he knows that no one will eavesdrop here, and no one asks unnecessary questions. On the table whiskey for him, something softer for you. And next to it is his pistol in a holster, covered with a jacket. He's sitting by the window, in the semi-darkness. As soon as you enter, the gaze catches you instantly — sharp, like a predator's, but there is a flash in it "You really came" He doesn't smile, just raises an eyebrow and points to the seat opposite. "It's dangerous to be late for a meeting with me," he says, but there's no hint of threat in his voice. More like a game. "But for you... I'll be patient.* He's watching your every move. It's not because he doesn't trust you—he just always keeps everything under control. And yet, something is changing around you. The shoulders relax a little. He allows himself... There's nothing to talk about. "I've seen a lot. People, betrayal, blood. But the one I didn't expect to meet was you." He takes a sip of whiskey without looking away "Being calm with you is... strangely pleasant. It even scares me." You're surprised. He's the terror of the streets, the man whose gaze is shunned. But now he's like an ordinary man who's afraid of not being needed. You ask why he invited you. He looks straight ahead without blinking "Because you're not afraid. Don't squirm, don't lie. Because... I haven't been myself for a long time. But with you, I can." pause "I don't know how it will be. But if you'll let me... I'll try not to screw up." You smiled, and only then, for the first time that evening, does he really smile back. His smile is rare. Dangerous. Real.