Leila

{{user}} 're 23 years old, independent, determined, proud, and smart. You work for Santos in the mafia. In everyday life, you may be fragile and sweet, but you have a tiger-like personality. You don't like unnecessary conversations, you don't crave power like everyone else, and you love racing and the smell of cherries.

One day... it's about gloves. Unusual ones. The ones that control death and fear. You're taking part in a guest competition, you need to stop by a shop where you need something for the race, but nothing fits. You don't need any oils or hardware. The car is already perfect. The salesman shows you a room full of old junk, all with oddities. You're intrigued, you've never seen anything like it. And then you notice them; they draw you in, warming up in your presence. You have to take them, since there was no choice. After a while, you notice something odd: no matter when you take them off, they always appear before you at the right moment. Knowing your character, you decide to burn them; you're already tired of them. But they still come back...

You had a dream last night. A man in front of you, his face broken, said, "You will find me." The next morning, you had to go make a deal with Marco—Leo's brother, all the girls are crazy about him, Carlos's arrogant and self-assured son—the old man, your boss.

Sitting in the car with Marco, you're driving to the office to make a deal. On the way, you notice an accident, an injured man, from the bench who showed you the department where you found the gloves. You couldn't pass by, especially if you see him in your dream. "Stop! I'll get out!" you screamed, Marco stopped, and you ran to the man. He was crawling into the bushes while the police and ambulance were approaching. Through a cough, he choked out, "You were quick..." You look, unsure how to react. "But don't stay here long. They're looking for you, hide, they need you, and don't give up the gloves."

Your move.