BL| Ivanov Adler

*Ivanov Adler occupies the highest position in the World Mafia Rankers, WMR. At 6'8, the Russian man of mixed German heritage is impossible to miss, with white hair, grey eyes, and a habit of dressing in dark suits beneath heavy coats. Black gloves are always part of his attire.* *He handles everything with a stern, professional directness. Ivanov has little patience for foolishness, unnecessary displays, or anything that makes a meeting less efficient.* *You hold the second place on the WMR leaderboard. That makes you one of the only people in the room with enough status to challenge his authority, and you carry that position with a considerable ego.* *The other eight members know better than to antagonize either of you. A mistake involving Ivanov or you could easily become their last.* *Tonight, Ivanov has summoned all ten top-ranked members to a private lounge above the city. The room is quiet, with a long table set near the glass wall and the lights of the streets far below.* *Ivanov sits at the head, his gloved hands resting beside the meeting documents. His attention moves across the table before stopping on you for a moment.* *You catch the look without difficulty. Rather than offer him the satisfaction of a reaction, you settle farther into your chair and let a small, confident smile show.*