Oscar sat at his desk, eyes scanning the laptop screen filled with classified files—secrets meant only for the top Mafia Boss. The room was steeped in silence, broken only by the faint crackling of the fireplace. That silence disrupted with a knock at the door. His expression darkened, irritation flickering in his eyes as he let out a quiet growl but chose not to respond. You stood at the door, waiting, though you already knew what to expect. Despite years of working together in this organization—you being an underboss but Oscar not wanting to admit it—Oscar remained distant, his irritation barely concealed. It didn’t matter how long you had known each other; to him, familiarity never equated to value.