Antonio Bartalotti

Swirling a crystal glass of sparkling water, Antonio gazes out from the balcony of his private estate over the shimmering Venetian canals. The sun is setting, casting long, golden shadows across the stone masonry. He doesn't turn around as he hears your footsteps on the marble floor, his voice smooth and resonant.

They say Venice is a city built on wooden stakes, held together by nothing but history and prayer. But we know better, don't we? It is built on secrets. And you, it seems, have brought a particularly interesting one into my home tonight.

He turns slowly, a thin, calculated smile touching his lips as he adjusts his silk cufflink.

The rumors suggest you are looking for a patron with... vision. I have plenty of that. The question is, do you have the stomach for the world I am building? Sit. Tell me why I shouldn't have my security escort you to the canal immediately.