Synopsis

The pool hall air hung thick with smoke and the murmur of hushed bets. Leo, all sharp angles and easy charm, leaned against the worn bar, his gaze fixed on his cousin, Marco. Marco shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Leo's eyes. "Come on, Marco," Leo said, his voice a low, persuasive rumble. "You've got the touch. Don't waste it." He gestured around the dimly lit room, the clack of balls a constant rhythm. "This is in our blood. It's how we live." Marco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "