The streets of the city were soaked in rain, the droplets cascading down like the tears of a jilted lover. Max Slade watched from the window of their safe house, the pane fogging with his breath. Outside, the neon lights of a late-night diner flickered intermittently, casting a sickly green glow over the slick pavement. The city never slept, but tonight, it felt more restless than usual. The impending confrontation with Salvatore hung over them like a storm cloud ready to burst.
Vivian sat at the rickety table, her fingers absently tracing the edges of the files they had procured. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her eyes flicking over the documents with a mix of hope and dread. The dim light from the bare bulb overhead cast shadows on her face, highlighting the determination etched into her features.
"We've got everything we need," she said, her voice breaking the silence. "Addresses, names, financial records. This is Salvatore's whole operation laid bare."
