Max's fingers trembled as he poured a glass of bourbon in his dimly lit apartment. The amber liquid splashed into the glass, a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped the room. He stared at the drink for a moment, then downed it in one swift gulp, feeling the burn travel down his throat. The sting was a welcome distraction from the chaos swirling in his mind.
He couldn't shake the memory of Vargas's cold, calculating eyes. They haunted him, a constant reminder of his failure to bring the crime lord to justice. Vargas's offer of a final chance echoed in his ears, a cruel joke wrapped in a veneer of false generosity. He slammed the glass down on the counter, the sharp sound breaking the oppressive silence.
