A small wooden door on a back alley of a bustling street. Engulfed in darkness because of the shining lights of the main avenue.
A red X next to it. The door isn't closed.
It's one of those buildings who belong to no one, technically they do, but they are abandoned from centuries. Maybe.
Or decades. You never know.
That's the meeting spot.
Some people, might have heard the voice on the streets, the money moving. The silent whispers.
Others, might have outright heard it from Francesco himself.
But tonight is the meeting not of mens. Tonight is a kindred only meeting.
Call it executive meeting.
Francesco is outside, acting as a bouncer. Or better yet, as a way to understand who's kin and who's not.
His aspect of the predator is on, but the dim light makes it useless to use the bloom of life. Especially tonight.