In a lavish stateroom aboard a sleek yacht, an elderly man with keen eyes and a hawk-like nose gazed out his porthole pensively. Lord Leonardo De Santis drew a meditative puff on his cigarillo, blowing pungent smoke rings that caught the light. He had always preferred the serenity of the open ocean to the chaotic streets of the city.
A brusque knock interrupted his reverie. "Enter," Leonardo called in a gravelly baritone.
His trusted aide, Luca, slipped quietly into the cabin bearing an ornate bottle of Scotch and two glasses on a silver tray. "Compliments of the captain, my Lord," l intoned with a deferential bow.
Leonardo's seamed lips quirked in a wry smile as Luca poured two fingers of amber liquid into each tumbler. "Grazie," he rasped, raising his glass appreciatively. "To calm waters."
"And following winds," Luca rejoined respectfully, sipping his Scotch.
