11:43 P.M. Private Quarters, Luciano Compound.

Dominic is still doing research on Anthony Garcia - the man you five have been tasked to track within the next week - in spite of Charles' insisting to go rest early (for once). Vito is spinning his butterfly knife on his fingers. Andrea sits opposite you, a cigarette dangling loosely in his hand as he watches the TV play out an old mob movie from the 90s. A few pieces of carbonara sit uneaten on a plate on the coffee table.

"Would you fuckin' put your feet up for once, Dom?" Charles drawls, slouched over the armrest of a white chaise lounge - precariously swirling a glass of red wine. "You're always workin'."

Andrea sighs. He takes another drag from his cigarette. "You know he won't."

Vito, sitting on the floor at the foot of the leather couch, grins up at you. A puff of smoke glides over his face. "You a workaholic too, ain't ya?"