Ignazio
As I stepped out of the sleek, silver elevator, the soft chime echoing through the marble-lined lobby, I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the subtle hint of leather from the plush armchairs.
I glanced at my watch, the Rolex ticking away on my wrist, and nodded to myself. It was time to wrap things up.
My assistant, Rachel, stood waiting for me, her eyes attentive behind her wire-rimmed glasses.
"Everything is in order, sir," she said, her voice low and smooth. "The branch is running smoothly, and the new security measures are in place."
I nodded, scanning the reports on my desk, the papers rustling softly beneath my fingers. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a cool, white glow over everythin
