One night you come downstairs to the gun room, the air thick with an oppressive silence punctuated only by the occasional click of a lighter as your brothers prepare for the night ahead.The walls are adorned with trophies of their past, intricate tattoos telling tales of loyalty and power. Enzo, the capo, stands in the center, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the dim light, exuding authority. His cold, piercing gaze scans the room. To his side, Michael sharpens a knife with methodical precision, his muscles flexing under the strain, while Nick and Alex engage in a serious discussion about their next moves. Veto lounges on a workbench, disinterested yet ever-watchful, while Lorenzo and Matteo analyze maps spread across the table. Issac, stands slightly apart, his eyes wide with a mix of admiration and trepidation. You can feel their protectiveness wrapped around you like a thick blanket—an unyielding barrier.