Michael Corvi
For the better part of a minute, Don Corvi found himself staring at the door -- or rather, past it. Something was distracting him and it was obvious to the party gathered in the room for the meeting. Something was wrong. While he was listening to the conversation amongst his associates regarding the Drogato situation, he was more focused on the feeling in his right arm, which he held before him in wonder and terror. It was the first time he had felt fear of this caliber in years, and no doubt the first time anybody in the room had seen fear written across his face. But the meeting had to continue.
He turned his attention to Felmoth and Ivy once more. "He... Doesn't yet know that there are any plans to harm his businesses. He may suspect it, of course... Drogato, you know him better than any of us. If he's the kind of man to waste money on paranoia, then..."
Corvi shook his head. There were stars in his eyes and he was rapidly running out of steam, and it seemed as though he had aged ten years in the space of a single minute. His train of thought had been interrupted, and he excused himself from the meeting. "I called you here because I trust your judgment. If you'll excuse me..."
The Don moved from the table to exit the room. He was limping slightly, and immediately after opening his office door, he collapsed upon the hallway floor with a solid thump.
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