~ Massimo ~
The elevator was quiet, a stark contrast to the violent sounds echoing from the lobby below.
My reflection in the polished metal doors was a ghost of the man who had walked in here an hour ago.
My jaw was caked in a mixture of dried blood and soot, my white dress shirt was stained and clinging to my body with sweat and my eyes... they looked hollow, like I'd looked into the sun and forgotten how to see anything else.
Bianco stood beside me, his breathing heavy and ragged, each inhale sounding like a struggle. He didn't look at me; he just tapped a fresh magazine into his gun mechanically with slightly shaking hands.
We didn't need to speak. We both knew the odds were stacked against us the moment those doors opened.
The elevator dinged. The soft, polite chime sounded like a mockery.
The doors slid open.
