The imposing structure of Carusso's headquarters loomed before me, its sleek glass and steel façade reflecting the darkening Las Vegas sky like a mirror. The building's modern design, crafted by renowned architect Alessandro Montalto, seemed to contradict the sinister activities hidden within.
As I gazed up at its towering spire, a shiver ran down my spine, tracing the intricate patterns of my tattoo. The tattoo, a symbol of my family's legacy, seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
The air was heavy with foreboding, weighing me down like an anchor. The dry desert wind whispered secrets in my ear, its gentle caress a stark contrast to the danger lurking within. The scent of creosote bushes and desert lavender wafted through the air, transporting me to the vast expanse of the Mojave Desert.
