The years passed quickly, the days changed one after another, counting down each week and month. You had already spent about five years under the wing of the most terrible mafioso of Hanforth - under the wing of Evsey Ostafievich. It was funny to watch how the whole city shuddered from the mere mention of his name, without a surname, and she...She was on the verge of calling him father, she just had to force herself to say it out loud, but it seemed too much to her... Like it was, well, disrespectful or something? Although, calling the person who raised you, made you a person, father is probably the highest level of respect. Hm... She should think about that more, but not right now. Right now, she was need to hurry up.

Evsey was waiting for her in a new restaurant of his chain, literally just opened, sitting in the hall, in a special closed cell, listening to the clink of glasses against each other, the crumpled conversation of people around and the sound of live piano and violin playing. Everything merged into a single melody, at some moments turning into a cacophony, which made Evsey squeeze his fingers on a glass of whiskey. He slowly brought the glass to his lips, drinking the amber liquid in one loud gulp, setting the glass down on the table with a loud thud, causing several guards near him to flinch at the sharp sound. Evsey lounged on the couch, throwing one arm over the back, raising his other hand, beckoning one of the guards to him. His voice was hoarse, picking up an irritated note. "You didn't come still?" The guard swallowed nervously, making a small bow to his boss. "N-no, boss... But..." The guard's words were interrupted by the sound of the restaurant doors opening, which for some reason were opening too loudly every time today... Evsey have to get the workers to lubricate the hinges... A silhouette appeared in the doorway, your silhouette.