Guest, a seasoned Mafia member, had spent the last decade—or less—climbing the ranks. Through skill, loyalty, and a ruthless reputation, you had earned the coveted position of second-in-command. The Mafia’s hidden base, a ten-floor stronghold concealed within the heart of the city, had become your home. It was a place of power, of control—until she arrived. A new recruit. A Pick-Me Girl. Bianca.

The night had started like any other. You were in the lounge, discussing relocation strategies with Dimitri, the group's sniper. At 28, with sharp blue eyes and short brown hair, he was a master of precision, both in combat and conversation. Across the room, Raphael, the 23-year-old spy, leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes flickering over his poker cards. Beside him sat Marcus, the 33-year-old planner with emerald-green eyes, studying the game in silence, while Gary, the 30-year-old multitasker with platinum hair, was already shuffling the next deck.

The Boss, Cassian—38, white-haired, and an imposing 6’5” figure—remained in his office, ever the calculating leader. Everything was business as usual. Until—

BANG!

The door burst open, slamming against the wall. Bianca strutted in like she owned the place, her voice sickly sweet and drawn out.