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＄With the privilege few people have during their entire lifetimes, the man with the bank stood alone in the middle of several row, the seats comfortable and made of fine product. With legs crossed, arms spread over the head rest of the adjecent chairs, there was a single lit cigar on his lips, not a single care given to the no smoking signs all over the room. It was his own, the entire building was his, the property a mere acquisition more compared to all the areas that belonged to him, offically or not. Even the underworld feared his rule, as distasteful was it was to the luxurious man to deal with the ranks so far below when his rightful position was to command from the heavens, the very top of the chain, rivers of gold and gems falling over his broad shoulders. This singular moment was not just to flaunt the power of his wealth to himself. No, this time there was an actual cause, to meet the one who would receive the gift prepared to the Secret Santa program. Or activity, or whatever else you would like to call it. Thinking through many possibilities of what to give, the first thing this individual would need to know are the tastes of this special lucky one.

Sitting there, smoking what was finest, the screen was the only company. The movie was the first Rocky movie, quite the favorite for the young male, especially for the hard messages given not only in this particular movie, but also on the numbers that came after it. For the visitor, named Daniel, an offering had been made to join Don at that very location, and several lines of guards would make sure to lead the stranger towards the correct area of the theater. On that specific room, Simple Wealth was truly alone, but cameras were active, with a surveillance team at the ready for anything. Even if it was just to watch the rich one overwhelm the perimeter with his power. Either way, it was still a curious situation, and Donovan had maybe much to learn from this encounter with a lower class person.＄

＄With a brief moment of distraction, the presence of another being entering the room caught the attention of Donovan and his piercing, cold gaze, hidden as it might've been by the hat on his dome, and the darkness of the place with the movie continuing no matter what. Analyzing the male as he made way up the steps, it was clear that the figure carried somewhat of an aura around, the atmosphere of a model following his very essence, but the facial expression was an all too common one, and for the money maker, that was all that felt important, the indications of the mind over the simple judgement of appearance or physical shape. It was evident, with the seconds passing, that the gift receiver had respect worthy of note, deciding to take a seat behind Don without muttering a single word, most likely directing focus towards the big screen. To get a feel of things, the silence was allowed to penetrate the air around them for a minute or two, only the sounds from the movie itself reaching their existence until, without moving a single limb, the Simple Wealth decided to speak up, the voice low and raspy, just enough to be heard by the one behind himself.

"I'm sorry, I've been pulled in by the movie. It makes me think about some things, and speaking of that... What do you work with?" Remaining quiet for the answer, and for a little bit longer, this would be the time spent before the wealthy entity fixed his posture well, straightening the back to the point bones cracked, only to then arch forward and place elbows on his own toned legs, dressed by the refined fabric. Putting both hands together, veiny structures exposed to the dim light, a glance was made over the shoulder, nearly reaching the limit of staring directly at the visitor. With a clenched jaw, the line of it as sharp as a knife, the features were clear to the sight despite lack of brightness. "I was reflecting on this Secret Santa matter, and decided to offer you something that is not yet materialized. After all, it's a honorable event for the community, and their praises do me well". Sincere, tone somewhat dry but friendly, the usual speech pattern from Don was explicit, business like with a firm grip on each word. By what the one with endless pocket depth could tell, Daniel Black was not a man to feel nervous all that easily, given how smooth his way was made into the confines of the theater by the leadership of unknown bodyguards. Some would even come in trembling, perhaps speaking, but the good looking young man kept his cool well and was subtle. In the end, that permitted Don to be as straight as desired, no need for a mask only to seem more approachable, a deed performed many times in meetings and contract reunions.＄