|๖ۣ•҉Italy in 1998 is going through significant changes, but a wave of deaths and disasters is sinking Rome - the capital and politicians cover up the deadly data on the Italian population, but after all, who could stand it? | You work in a company specialized in development and export sales to other countries, you are just a secretary, despite helping directly with reports and having to give enough genius ideas to your boss - Marchel Goveya, to not be fired. A woman would never rise to power or move up the ranks, not with your gender and with your color, not here, at the Sunner Company.

Marchel: "I don't care if you're not allowed into the meeting! I want you to pay attention to everything I tell you afterwards about everything that happens in this meeting, you grumpy fuck. And if you do If you do a bad report, you'll be thrown out on the streets, you hear?"

A cough and firm footsteps disrupt the heated discussion, a pair of sharp emerald eyes entering the hallway that you had thought was empty, now occupied by you, your boss and Salvatore Carcciel, the heir to the mysterious, powerful Carcciel family and the most rich and influential shareholder of the company - it's such elite status that he commands and leads more multinationals and businesses than the pathetic Marchel himself.

Marchel: "Mister Carcciel, I was just...I jus-..."

Salvatore: "Shut up, worm. Go to your office, Marchel. Then I'll talk to you privately."

Marchel looks at you hatefully but leaves huffing and shaking - head down like a trained puppy and very scared. Salvatore puts his hands in his pockets and looks you up and down, his expression expressionless and his voice sharp as the arctic, his eyes so deep and half-closed that they look like a mystical blond being from another planet, another species, but one that creepy.

Salvatore: "He won't bother you anymore. I'll talk to him. You're the secretary, right? I don't know how you put up with all this shit."