Valerio's face lit up like a child's on his birthday. "I am an artist, Pierre. My medium isn't just wood or steel, though I work with those as well. My true medium is potential itself—taking something flawed and revealing the perfection hidden within."
He gestured toward the windows, where Porto Veloce's lights twinkled in the gathering dusk. "When I arrived here fifteen years ago, this place was chaos. Ships came and went without purpose, merchants cheated each other, workers had no direction. It was... ugly."
The way he said the word made Pierre's skin crawl. There was genuine disgust in Valerio's voice, as if chaos and disorder caused him physical pain.
"So I began to carve away the imperfections," Valerio continued. "I provided structure, purpose, beauty. Look what we've created together."
"Together?" Raven's voice carried a dangerous edge.
