ALEJANDRO: The Mafia's Obsession
Alejandro nodded at him, downed the last of the wine from his hourglass-shaped glass, and turned to leave.
“See you, boss,” he muttered over his shoulder as he walked out.
---
The entrance into the Matini Syndicate’s private club was guarded by statuesque men in designer suits, eyes hidden behind dark lenses.
“ID,” one of them demanded as Alejandro approached.
Alejandro handed over a forged identity card. Marcus Vega, international investor with questionable ethics and even more questionable bank accounts.
The guard scanned it, expression unreadable, before nodding him through. The doors swung open, and a wall of pulsing bass, laughter, and whispered deals engulfed him.