The heavy oak doors creaked open, revealing a man dressed in all black. His face was shadowed under the dim light of the chandelier, but his presence alone carried the weight of bad news.

Gallos sat behind his grand mahogany desk, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of whiskey lingering from his untouched glass. His dark eyes lifted slowly as he gave the man a questioning look.

The man hesitated for a brief second before stepping forward. "Boss, we have a problem."

Gallos leaned back in his chair, exhaling a slow drag of smoke. "No," he corrected, his voice dangerously calm. "You...