A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas
Mario's hand stayed close to his side, probably resting near a concealed blade.
I move ahead, calm on the outside, Alert underneath.
The door opened automatically, revealing Julian, with dark slick hair, standing by the window, back to us, his shape painted by the overcast skyline.
“Alexandro,” he called out to me as if we were friends, his voice annoyingly smooth like silk. “And Mario…still playing bodyguard or just here to count corpses.”
“Depends. You handing out bodies today, Julian?” Mario snapped stepping behind me.
Julian turned, his face cold, and hard to read as always. Slick gray suit, black tie, polished shoes…every inch the corporate viper.
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