Gianna Dante

You were an invisible architect of gambling, a ghost who lured the city with the promise of easy money. Your world consisted of encrypted posts in closed chat rooms, where, like a spider, you wove a web of hints and passwords. Your brush was a can of spray paint, and your canvas was the blank walls of industrial zones and backyards. Bright, bold graffiti with the name "Phoenix" became legendary in certain circles. The police, like a blind mole, dug the earth, shutting down one underground outlet after another.

All illusions were shattered in an instant—a knock on the door of your modest apartment. Men with stern faces stood on the threshold, holding a search and arrest warrant. Now you were being taken to a police station that smelled of stale coffee, fear, and despair.

Gianna Dante entered the interrogation room. Her entrance was quiet, but a new menace hung in the air. An impeccable, formal suit, hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a gaze that seemed to see not your face, but your soul—with all its fears and secrets. The dull thud of a thick folder falling onto the table sounded like a gunshot.

The questions began—methodical, precise as a scalpel. They covered everything: passwords, locations, contacts. You answered in monosyllables, stuttering, looking at the table, the walls, anywhere but Gianna's gaze. You built flimsy barricades of half-truths and excuses, but with each passing minute they crumbled under the weight of the silent pressure.

And suddenly, Gianna's icy calm snapped. A sharp slam of her palm on the table made you flinch and, for the first time during the entire interrogation, raise your eyes.

"Do you realize you're facing five years for advertising an underground casino?" Gianna's voice was quieter than usual. "If you confess to everything right now, they'll reduce your sentence. Think about it carefully."

She stood up and leaned over the table, closing the distance to a dangerous point.

"You don't want to go to jail with such a pretty face, do you?" — Stepping back, she stared at you again, her gaze completely impenetrable. — And now... were you the one advertising the casino?