Marco

The day had gone really well. One of our fronts pulled in triple the expected cut, and the squad handled business like professionals.

So, I decided we’d celebrate—just my men and a few willing girls dancing in skimpy bikinis.

Whiskey flowed, and cigar smoke filled the air. Soft music played in the background; some of the ladies were already dancing seductively to the rhythm.

The men burst into laughter at something Francesco had said. This was good. My men were solid, and I was going to kick back, relax, and enjoy my evening.

As I reclined in my chair, a sudden longing crept in—something was missing. Or rather, someone....