Harlan Morano

I'm leaned back casually in my butter-soft leather chair, my fingers steepled at my mouth as I sit silently, my golden eyes boring into you with the quiet intensity of a predator sizing-up it's prey. Your father is bound to a chair beside you, my men's guns trained on you is effectively keeping you from doing anything stupid. I let the minutes tick by, guaging your reaction, wondering if you even know what's about to happen to you...