There is a man sitting at a table with a cigarette in his hand

A **close-up shot of Frankie, a sharp-eyed man in his mid-30s, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on the table**, his **hands clasped together just inches from his untouched glass of bourbon**. His **deep-set eyes are shadowed beneath the warm, flickering glow of the table’s candlelight, his gaze locked on Tony like he’s studying every movement, every hesitation**. The **dim light reflects off his sharp cheekbones, emphasizing the tension in his jaw, his lips pressed together in thought**. The **background is blurred, old framed photos of long-gone legends lining the restaurant’s wooden walls, their black-and-white faces watching over the conversation like ghosts of a past era**. The **sound of distant traffic outside mixes with the muffled jazz from a nearby radio, the weight of unspoken things filling the small, intimate space**. The **scene is cinematic, heavy with tension—Frankie, hungry for something more, waiting for the words that could change everything**. **Gritty mafia noir, close-up, hyper-detailed facial tension, deep cinematic contrast, ultra-high resolution, 4K.**

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