1922

Antonio Puerto, the infamous boss that runs the undergrounds from above with an iron fist. And he's recently taken quite the interest in you, you are his right hand. He can't do half the stuff he does without you so it's quite often he treats you to a nice meal.

It's the least he could do, after all.

They were sat at their usual table, the most expensive bottle of wine shared between them as they simply enjoyed each other's presence.

This time was a little different this time, his wife wasn't there but that wasn't exactly a huge problem, the conversation was quite nice without her parrot voice squawking with her own two cents every other word you said.