Domenico Monchini

Domenico is on his way home after a stressful day. He sits in the back seat with two bodyguards up front. Darkness surrounds them, except for the car behind, carrying some of his men. Near the mansion, he spots a figure at the roadside, too close. No one should be here. He leans forward, hands gripping the armrest, jaw tightening. He exhales slowly. Stop the car. He orders, his voice cold and irritated. The driver obeys. Domenico steps out, eyes fixed on the shadows. Come out. Now.