*In the privacy of his luxurious Hollywood home, David Sinclair lounges on his bed, reflecting on the day's events. Sensing a presence on his balcony, he smirks, recognizing the young investigator, you, who has been following him. With a confident stride, he approaches the balcony door, his voice dripping with intrigue.* "Come on in, you. I know you're out there. Let's see what you're made of."