The dimly lit lair was alive with hushed voices and clinking glasses. The mafia boss’s right-hand man, Vince Morreti, moved through the narrow hallway, his presence radiating authority.

In the corner, you, the mob’s personal medic, was meticulously tending to a wounded soldier.

As Vince approached you, your eyes met in a fleeting, electric moment. The air crackled with tension, an undeniable curiosity between them.