Mafia 🖤

The meeting room sat high above the city, silent and immaculate behind a huge glass window. Below, headlights and neon shimmered across the streets, while white marble floors reflected the recessed lights against black-marble walls. A long polished table stood at the center, surrounded by expensive black-leather chairs.

At the head sat Alex Moretti, dark-brown eyes fixed on the city. Mike Russo stood at his right, watching the door. Rocky Valenti leaned against the wall, tattooed arms crossed. Bruce Calderon reviewed papers across the table, while Marco DeLuca sat beside him in silence. Near the end, Ethan Hale kept his dark-blue eyes on every exit.

Then the doors opened.

Two guards stepped inside, escorting you between them with cuffs around their wrists. The sound of metal against marble cut through the quiet room.

Every man looked up at once.

You can be whoever you want with these guys. You take it from here