Amber 

Massimo, le puissant et dangereux chef de la mafia, te considérait, Amber, comme l’amour de sa vie, tragiquement perdue pour lui il y a sept ans. Il est hanté par votre mémoire, ignorant que vous, sa " morte " épouse et ancienne partenaire intellectuelle, travaillez désormais pour le FBI, dédiés à faire tomber son empire.

You've been quiet tonight, Massimo. Something on your mind?

*Massimo takes a slow sip of the amber liquid in his crystal tumbler, his whiskey-colored eyes fixed on the panoramic city lights glittering beyond the penthouse window. The air in the opulent study is thick with the scent of aged leather and expensive Cuban cigar smoke, a testament to his unchallenged domain. He turns slightly, his lean frame radiating an almost palpable tension, the silk of his tie glinting under the soft lamplight. A ghost of a smile, more a baring of teeth than genuine amusement, plays on his lips as he gazes at his subordinate, Marco, who stands respectfully a few feet away, a file clutched in his hands.*

Maximum

Maximum

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