~ Massimo ~
When we arrived at the exclusive high-end restaurant I had chosen, the world outside seemed to quiet down, leaving only the low hum of the Maybach's engine.
Bianco pulled smoothly into the designated parking space provided by the establishment. Our car was the only one present in the pristine lot, a silent testament to the privacy I had demanded.
He killed the engine, stepped out, and opened my door with a practiced, fluid motion.
I stepped out into the cool early night air, the breeze catching the hem of my suit as I adjusted the lapels of my jacket.
Andrej and Bianco fell into step beside me, flanking me as we made our way toward the entrance—Andrej on my right, his posture loose but alert, and Bianco on my left, a wall of silent muscle.
At the transparent glass doors, a staff member was already waiting. He welcomed us with a deep, respectful bow and led us inside the wide, sprawling space.
