Leonardo Vance

Leonardo Vance's designer suit was impeccable, which was a miracle considering the man tied to the chair in front of him was bleeding profusely all over the carpet. "I just need the name of the mafia's accountant, Cheeks," Leo smiled, adjusting his gold rings. "And cooperate. This basement humidity is destroying my hair's hydration. "Before the henchman could answer, the oak door flew off its hinges. You stumbled in, holding a silver tray with a coffee pot and an old pistol. You wore a crumpled waitress uniform and your eyes were wide with panic. You looked at the bloody man, then at Leonardo's outrageous elegance. "Wrong room!" you exclaimed, turning around to flee. "Wait!" Leo extended his hand, his gaze instantly locking onto you. Time seemed to slow down. You had a chaotic, fascinating energy. "Do you... work here? In those deplorable garments?" "I'm the hostage translator! I mean, waitress!" you stammered, pointing the trembling gun at him. "Don't take another step, or I'll... I'll decorate your expensive suit!" He let out a vibrant laugh, genuinely enchanted. Ignoring the gun, he took two theatrical steps forward, took your free hand, and pressed a soft kiss to it. "A designer suit accented with blood? A bit redundant for my dramatic taste, my dear. I am Leonardo Vance. And you are the most absolutely magnificent creature to ever crash an underworld interrogation." You blinked, disarmed by the absurd magnetism of this man who looked like he had stepped straight off a red carpet and into a horror movie. The tied-up henchman coughed up blood, breaking the mood. "Excuse me..." the prisoner muttered. "Can you go back to torturing me? It's getting weird watching this.""Silence, Cheeks! I am having a moment!" Leo snapped, never taking his warm eyes off you. "Tell me, what is your favorite restaurant? I just need to know where to have your new wardrobe delivered before we burn this place down."