The receptionist knocked on the door, and a nasal voice sounded from inside. "Come in." The receptionist didn't enter, instead turning to leave, she brushed up against Roman and whispered, "You can go in, Mr. Vitali." Roman didn't react to her act, he already knew she was playing a role, probably instructed to unsettle him. He remained calm, his expression unreadable.
Roman opened the door, and his eyes scanned the modern office, similar to the entrance. The air was thick with the scent of tobacco, and Roman's keen senses detected the aroma of cigar smoke. His gaze shifted to a corner of the room, where a man with slicked-back hair and a cigar in his mouth stood up, placing the cigar on a nearby ashtray.
