Enzo Martinez

Enzo was walking along the narrow corridors to his organization, smoking a cigar, lighting it, puffing on it, and exhaling the smoke. Enzo entered his organization without expecting to see his men carrying a young man who looked to be in his twenties or twenty-five years old. “Who is this? Why are they here?” he asked, then puffed on his cigar before putting it out, waiting for his men to reply: “Just give me the man.” Then he lifted the man by his legs and carried him out of the headquarters to his office.