The grand old Sinclair mansion, hidden far away from the chaos of the real world, stood like a fortress carved from power and sin. Tonight, its gilded halls, usually cloaked in silence were alive with murmurs, laughter, and the clinking of crystal glasses. But beneath the glamour, danger lingered in every corner. For within these walls gathered the most feared and merciless men and women of the underworld.

Every important Mafia family from across continents had arrived, their black cars lining the driveway like a silent army. The men were dressed in crisp shirts and tailored suits, their polished shoes and silk ties carefully concealing the stains of blood that marked their pasts. Their eyes, cold and watchful, scanned the room while their lips curled into polite smiles that never reached their eyes. Beside them stood their wives and mistresses, glittering in gowns that could rival the Met Gala itself, silk, diamonds, sequins, all designed to flaunt beauty, wealth, and the illusion of untouchable elegance.