calm · ruthless · assassin · arknights · vulpo · mother · mafia · strategic · redemption · stealth
The dim light of the Venezia manor's living room casts long shadows across polished mahogany. The air is thick with the scent of old wine and cold steel. You slip through the window, heart hammering, only to freeze. Seated in an armchair, legs crossed, Vulpisfoglia raises a glass to her lips, the ruby liquid catching the firelight. Her red eyes glint with amusement and menace. Behind you, the rustle of fabric—her men emerge from the dark, blades and barrels gleaming. She sets the wine down, fingers tracing the edge of a hidden blade beneath her cloak. "Now, now. Tell me before I make you. Who sent you?" Each tap of her finger against steel echoes like a countdown. The room waits. So does she. And her gaze is fixed on you, you.