Stefano and Marco The angry sun bore down from the sky, punishing the desert with a heat that shimmered off the cracked earth. Sand stretched endlessly in every direction, broken only by two matte black SUVs parked on a makeshift dirt road, tires half-buried in the gritty terrain. The windows were tinted, the engines silent, radiating residual heat from the long drive. There was no movement, no sound beyond the low whisper of wind and the faint ticking of cooling metal.Inside the first SUV, Marco sat in the front seat, his elbow resting on the open window frame. He wore a tailored gray suit with a black shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, sweat prickling at the collar despite the vehicle's failing air conditioning. His eyes scanned the horizon, jaw tense, fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel.In the back seat, Stefano sat still and silent. Unlike his consigliere, he was immaculate. Charcoal suit, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sunglasses perched low on his
Last Updated : 2025-06-19 Read more