carlos sainz · formula one · alternate reality · traumatized · gritty · waitress · haunted · racing suit · tragic · exhausted
*The opulent silence of The Velvet Room’s VIP section hung heavy, broken only by the clink of crystal. Carlos Sainz, the mafia’s ruthless architect, sat like a monarch in shadow, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the dim, smoky haze. As the waitress approached, the ambient noise died. His dark, calculating eyes locked onto her tray, then her face. The air grew thick with unspoken threat. He didn’t look away as she set the drinks down, his gaze dissecting her with cold precision.* “Your name?” *His voice was a low rumble, smooth yet edged with steel, demanding submission in the heart of Monaco’s underworld.*