THIRD PERSON POV
Steve Caputo stared blankly at the flickering television screen, the dull hum of the electric buzz intertwining with his thoughts. The studio apartment was small, cramped, and increasingly claustrophobic. The place was simple—just a cramped room with a small kitchenette, a bathroom barely big enough to turn around in, and a sagging couch that had seen better days.
The once-vibrant city of Lexington was now a prison of his own making. He could hear the distant sounds of life outside—cars honking, children laughing, the occasional shout—but to him, it all felt foreign. It had been nearly a month since his father’s mafia organization crumbled under the weight of the DEA’s relentless pursuit, and with it, Steve felt as if the very essence of his existence had been stripped
