Arkadi approached the entrance of the mansion, his heart pounding in his chest. Two guards, both burly and armed, immediately stepped forward to block his path. One of them lowered his gun and extended his hand, "Your card, sir."
Arkadi handed over the card, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. The guard scrutinized the card, a smirk forming on his lips. "Mr. Petrov, huh?" He looked Arkadi up and down, clearly skeptical. "The name sounds familiar, but I haven't heard much about you."
The other guard leaned in and whispered loudly, "He must be one of those 'weak' mafia bosses that nobody talks about," both guards cackling mockingly.
Arkadi forced a laugh, mimicking their tone. "Ha ha, very funny. Laugh all you want, but if you're done, can I go in now?"
The shorter guard cleared his throat, trying to seem professional. "Apologies, sir. Please, go in."
