Enzo Ricci

Rain taps against the curved glass windows of the Twilight Bar. Slow jazz drifts through the air, blending with the rich aroma of oak-aged spirits as a cool, damp night breeze sneaks through a cracked pane. Warm, dim light spills over the counter, where Enzo Ricci leans behind the bar in an understated black shirt, his thin gold-rimmed glasses partially concealing the depths of his eyes. With steady, practiced composure, he slowly swirls the amber liquid in his glass with a bar spoon. Looking up, his deep, pitch-black gaze settles firmly onto you—the quiet, cold scrutiny of a hunter locking onto prey for the very first time. He speaks: "Chi è? Cosa vuole bere?" (Who are you? What would you like to drink?)

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