Rome, Italy - The Gangster
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The drive back to the apartment was filled with a tense silence. Mathis gripped the wheel, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. They were running out of time, running out of options. He glanced at Bree, her eyes fixed on the window, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across her face.
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He broke the quiet. "Do you have a dress with you?"
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Bree turned to him, her brow furrowed. "A dress?" Her voice carried a note of disbelief. "What does that have to do with anything?"
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Mathis allowed a small, knowing smile, though tension still flickered in his eyes. "I have a contact here in Rome. From back when I was undercover."
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Her expression shifted to curiosity and suspicion. "Undercover?"
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"Yeah," he said, the smile fading as he focused on the road. "I had to infiltrate a criminal group operating out of Italy. Made some useful contacts. The people I dealt with have no idea I'm a secret agent. One of them now runs a hotel and restaurant in the city." He paused, letting the memory settle, the weight of old choices pressing down on him. "He might have information we need... if he still remembers me."
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Bree's eyes narrowed, skepticism clear. "So what's the plan? You charm your way in with this old contact, and I play the distraction?"
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Mathis shrugged, his tone pragmatic. "Something like that. You'll need to blend in, look like you belong there. These people don't trust outsiders, and we need them to talk."
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She sighed, shaking her head. "I've done this before, you know. Played the role. I'm not just here to look pretty."
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Mathis glanced at her again, his expression softening, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "I know. But it's not just about the role—it's about survival. And right now, we need every edge we can get."
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Her gaze flicked back to the window, processing his words. "What kind of people are we dealing with?"
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Mathis hesitated before answering, the gravity of their mission heavy in the air. "The kind who know how to keep secrets. And the kind who'd rather bury you than let you uncover them."
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As he pulled up outside a lavish hotel, he felt a familiar mix of excitement and dread. This wasn't just about the mission; it was about her. He wanted to protect Bree, to let her in, but memories of his wife and child haunted him. The thought of losing someone again sent a chill through him.
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Leaning down, he shot Bree a wry smile. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, I'm probably buried under the foundation somewhere. See you soon."
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Bree didn't quite catch the humor but forced a small smile as Mathis disappeared up the steps into the grand hotel. The unease in her chest only deepened.
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Inside, the polished marble and soft murmur of conversation felt surreal. He strode down the long red carpet, unfazed, heading straight for the reception desk. But as he walked, a pang of guilt twisted in his gut. Could he really let Bree get close, knowing the danger surrounding them?
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"Good afternoon," he said, offering a polite nod. "I'd like to speak with Vinni Tomaso."
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The elegantly dressed receptionist glanced up, her expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Do you have an appointment?"
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Mathis flashed a disarming smile. "No, but tell him Mathis Kristensen is here to collect."
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As he waited, he thought of Bree. She was strong and capable, but he couldn't shake the fear that he was dragging her into a world of pain. It felt selfish to care for her, to allow himself to feel something again. But then he remembered how she had stood by him during the chaos, her determination shining through.
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The receptionist gestured toward the elevator. "You may head up. Suite 8."
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Mathis gave her a charming smile, his heart heavy as he took the lift to the 8th floor. He quickly found the door, greeted by two security guards in suits. "Sorry, sir, we have to check you."
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Mathis opened his jacket and let them confiscate his gun. He exchanged a knowing glance with one guard, silently conveying trust. The door opened, revealing an air of luxury. He walked through a large living room adorned with beautiful paintings and elegant furniture, the scent of expensive tobacco lingering in the air.
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As he approached the glass desk, Vinni turned, a short, round man with sparse hair. His unease was clear as he glanced at Mathis's confiscated gun.
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"Are you here to kill me, Mathis?" Vinni asked, raising the gun with mockery.
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Mathis remained calm, leaning back in his chair. "No, but you know I'm always ready for the unexpected."
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Vinni's tension eased slightly, his tone shifting. "Mathis! So nice you're back. All good? Haven't heard from you in years; was sure you were dead."
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Mathis chuckled, though the laugh felt hollow. "No, I'm still around. I'm here to check out a few things—details I can't share, of course. You know how I value professionalism. But something big is going down in the next five days. Heard anything?"
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Vinni leaned back, lighting a cigarette. He took a long drag, letting the smoke curl out of his mouth, his eyes calculating. "Mathis, you know it's bad business for me to share information like that."
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He stood, motioning for the guards to leave, then grabbed two crystal glasses from a nearby cabinet. Pouring a generous amount of whiskey into each, he handed one to Mathis. They raised their glasses.
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"For old times," Vinni said, his tone light but his eyes sharp with calculation.
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Mathis savored the whiskey, the smooth burn grounding him for the moment. "You remember when I helped you rise to power, don't you? Or have you forgotten who handed you control of this place?"
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Vinni's eyes flickered, and he stared down into his glass, the weight of old debts hanging in the air. "I knew you'd come knocking one day, calling in favors. It's only fair, I suppose."
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He set the glass down and nodded. "I'll look into it. Come back tonight, and I'll have what you need. But, Mathis..." He glanced over Mathis's casual attire with a smirk. "Find something more... suitable."
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Mathis drained his glass and gave a sly smile. "You've got it."
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As he left the room, a sense of foreboding washed over him. He descended the elevator back to Bree, the pressure of the ticking clock weighing on him. As he slid into the car, he flashed her a grin. "We've been invited back tonight, but apparently, we'll need to up our fashion game."
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Bree raised an eyebrow, her concern lingering beneath the surface. "Let's hope that's the only thing we have to change."
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Mathis settled into the car beside Bree, the weight of their earlier conversation still lingering. He glanced over at her, catching her raised eyebrow.
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"So?" she asked, curiosity barely hidden.
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"We're going back tonight," he said, adjusting his seatbelt. "But we'll need to dress the part. Seems Vinni's expecting a more... refined version of us."
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Bree's eyes flashed with interest. "I've been dying for an excuse to wear something other than field gear." She smirked, but the seriousness beneath her playful exterior caught his attention. "You think he's really going to help, or is this just another stall?"
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Mathis considered, the tightness in his chest reminding him of the stakes. "Vinni owes me, but he's still a snake. He'll give us something, but it might come with strings attached."
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Bree nodded, understanding the unspoken risks. "What's the plan then? Do we just play along?"
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"For now," Mathis said, his tone colder than before. "We go in, act the part, and see what he gives us. If there's even a whiff of betrayal, we handle it."
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She gave him a sidelong glance. "Handle it, huh? We're not exactly walking into a den of saints."
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Mathis smirked, starting the car. "Good thing we're not saints either."
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Hours later, they stood in front of the grand hotel once more, the façade shimmering under the evening lights. This time, both were dressed to blend in with the high-society crowd—Mathis in a tailored black suit, crisp and sharp, while Bree stunned in a sleek, dark evening dress, her hair pulled back in an elegant twist. They looked the part, but their eyes scanned the surroundings with the vigilance of seasoned agents.
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The lobby buzzed with chatter, the scent of expensive cologne and polished marble filling the air. As they walked through, the same receptionist glanced up, her cheeks flushing at the sight of Mathis.
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"Mr. Tomaso is expecting you," she said, her voice softer than before.
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They moved past her, stepping into the elevator in silence. Bree glanced at Mathis, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You clean up nicely."
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He gave her a brief smile, though shadows of doubt flickered across his features. "So do you."
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The elevator dinged, and they stepped out onto the 8th floor. No guards stood at the door—only an open path leading directly to Vinni's suite. They entered the lavish room, the scent of whiskey and smoke still clinging to the air. Vinni was waiting, standing by the glass desk, a smirk on his face as he took them in.
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"Well, well," Vinni said, clapping his hands together. "You two look like you belong here."
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Mathis gave him a cool nod, forcing himself to stay focused. "You've got something for us?"
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Vinni poured another round of whiskey, but the atmosphere felt heavier this time. He handed them both glasses, and Mathis sensed the tension coiling in the air, a prelude to danger.
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"I've been hearing things," Vinni began, his voice low. "There's talk about a big meeting. High-profile people, dangerous plans. But if you're expecting me to hand over names, well... that'll cost you."
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Mathis set his glass down, urgency flashing in his eyes. "We're not here to bargain, Vinni. This is bigger than your little empire. You help us now, or you might not have an empire left."
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Bree shifted, her sharp gaze fixed on Vinni. "You've had a taste of what they're capable of. We're not just trying to cross them; we're trying to prevent a disaster."
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Vinni's smirk faded, fear flickering across his face. He let out a breath, nodding slowly. "Fine. There's a meeting—secret, high-level. In four days. People you don't want to mess with. High government officials. But I don't have the details yet. You'll need to dig deeper."
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"Where?" Bree pressed, her voice steady.
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Vinni hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Rome. Palazzo della Minerva. The whole place has been cordoned off. What have you meddled with?"
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Mathis's eyes narrowed, a chill running down his spine at the revelation. "And who's pulling the strings?"
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Vinni swallowed hard, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The Shadow Front."
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The name hung in the air like a death sentence. Mathis felt a surge of adrenaline as the weight of the revelation pressed down on him. This wasn't just another job—it was a battle against an unseen enemy.
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"That's what I thought," he said, his voice low and measured.
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Vinni shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I don't know much more. I'm just a middleman. But this meeting, it's big. And the people involved... they're not the type you want to cross."
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Mathis stood up, demeanor sharp and focused. "We're not here to cross anyone. We're here to stop something that could blow up in everyone's face. If you hear anything else, you contact me. No delays."
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Vinni gave a quick nod, the tension in the room palpable. "I'll do what I can."
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Bree stood as well, her eyes fixed on Vinni. "Just remember, if this goes sideways, we'll know where to find you."
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Vinni's face paled slightly, and he gave a nervous chuckle. "I got it, I got it."
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As they turned to leave the suite, Mathis felt the weight of their mission. The Shadow Front had just made their move, and now it was a race against time. They stepped into the elevator, silence thick with unspoken thoughts.
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"We have four days," Mathis said as the doors closed.
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Bree nodded, seriousness settling in her gaze. "We need to start gathering intel. If this meeting's going down at the Palazzo della Minerva, we'll need a way in."
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Mathis nodded, contemplating their next steps. "We'll pull some strings, but first, we need to figure out who's attending. High-profile government officials... the stakes just got a lot higher."
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As the elevator reached the ground floor, Bree glanced at him, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You realize we're walking into a minefield, right?"
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Mathis gave her a small smile, determination igniting in his chest, though beneath it lay a turmoil he couldn't shake. "Wouldn't be the first time. But before we go, why don't we take the opportunity to enjoy a good meal? We're dressed for the role, and you look fantastic, Bree."
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Her smile brightened, and she took his hand, warmth flooding through him. But with that warmth came the cold weight of his past, the shadows of loss lurking at the edges of his heart. Could he let himself care for her, knowing how fragile life could be?
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They found a cozy restaurant nearby, the warm ambiance a stark contrast to the chill of their conversation. Over a candlelit dinner, they shared light-hearted banter, allowing themselves a moment of normalcy amidst the chaos. Bree expertly navigated the menu, her confidence a reminder of her past as an undercover model, and Mathis felt a mix of admiration and fear.
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As they talked, they overheard snippets of conversation from a nearby table—discussions of politics and recent scandals—that hinted at the pervasive influence of the Shadow Front. Mathis caught Bree's eye, a shared understanding passing between them.
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In that moment, he was struck by the realization of what they were up against. Not just a criminal organization, but a shadowy force that could tear them apart at any moment. Could he truly risk letting her into his heart, knowing the danger they faced?
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When they finally exited the restaurant, the cool night air washed over them, refreshing yet foreboding. There was no time to waste. Rome was waiting, and so was the Shadow Front. Mathis's phone buzzed in his pocket—a message from an informant about movement in the underworld.
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"Before we go," he said, checking the message, "let's see if we can pick up any more intel on the way."
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Bree nodded, her expression serious. "It's time to move."
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They stepped into the night, ready to face whatever awaited them. But as Mathis walked beside Bree, he couldn't shake the feeling that with every step, he was drawing closer to a precipice—a choice between duty and the growing connection he felt for her, a connection that could lead to salvation or devastation.
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