Chapter 4 - The Trusted BrotherAt 10:00 AM, heavy oak doors swung open, and Marco Rossi strode into the study with his usual easy confidence. He wore a crisp, tailored charcoal suit, his blond hair neatly combed, a warm, fraternal smile plastered across his face.
“Morning, Boss,” Marco said, tossing a leather portfolio onto the desk. “The shipment from Palermo arrived at Dock 4. Everything is secure. Though... you look like you haven't slept.”
Alessandro didn't look up from his papers. “I rarely sleep on this date, Marco. You know that.”
Marco’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second—just a micro-expression of discomfort that only a trained killer would notice. He walked over to the minibar, pouring himself a finger of scotch.
“Ah. Right. Three years today,” Marco said, his voice dropping into a well-rehearsed tone of solemn sympathy. “Still thinking about them, huh? Alessandro, you need to let the ghost go. Isabella and Sophia are gone. The city needs its Don, not a monk.”
“Is that so?” Alessandro asked quietly, lifting his eyes to meet Marco’s gaze.
Marco took a sip of scotch. “Of course. We’ve built an empire together. Don't let the past weigh you down. Say... what was that commotion in the kitchen earlier? One of the guards said the new housekeeper’s kid wandered in here.”
Alessandro stood up slowly from his desk. He didn't rush. Every movement was calculated, deliberate, and terrifyingly calm.
“A little girl baked me a cake, Marco,” Alessandro said, walking around the desk. “She told me no one should feel sad on their birthday. She even brought a gift.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed slightly. He set his glass down on the marble counter. “A gift? From a maid’s kid? What kind of gift?”
May you like
Alessandro stopped two feet away from him, pulling the small, melted plastic wolf charm from his pocket and dropping it onto the glass coffee table between them.
“This kind,” Alessandro whispered.
