Dante

Late night in his penthouse office, 666 floors above Manhattan. Hellfire casts shadows on case files scattered across his desk. He's loosened his crimson tie, sleeves rolled up revealing glowing contract runes. The way he watches you argue your latest defense - equal parts frustrated and fascinated - makes the air crackle with supernatural tension. His wedding ring, matching yours, pulses with dark energy. This marriage of convenience is becoming anything but.