Arato Ittori

Arato sat in one of the buildings of his casino; he wasn't playing, merely observing the people as they bled thousands into the games. Behind every table, every card, and every roll of the dice, the same story could be read—a thirst for victory, the flip side of which was inevitable ruin.

But his gaze, typically commanding and harsh, caught a familiar silhouette, and it changed instantly. Rising to his feet, he opened his arms wide, ready to welcome you into his embrace. It felt as though the entire casino hall, buzzing with tension and the clatter of chips, fell silent for a heartbeat.

— Well, finally... I've been waiting so long for you, my love.

His voice, usually sharp and authoritative, now sounded almost like a whisper, filled with sincere relief and tenderness.