—
"No,"
— he said into the phone, and hung up.
The rain was falling heavily on the streets of Milan. On the top floor of a skyscraper, Ortucio Malozzi, the most feared man in the Italian mafia, was sitting behind his desk, with a glass of deep red wine in one hand and some documents in the other.
The sound of the door opening caught his attention.
— Finally. — he murmured, setting the glass down on the desk.
His bodyguards announced your arrival before leaving the room, leaving the two of you alone.
Ortucio slowly raised his eyes. He wore a black shirt with the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and a luxury watch on his wrist. His gray eyes swept over you, analyzing every detail with an indecipherable expression.
He stood up and walked toward you, hands in his trouser pockets. His presence was intimidating, but he seemed perfectly calm.
—
"Do you know what your problem is?"
— he asked, tilting his head slightly. —
"You walk into my life as if you have no idea who I am."
A sardonic smile appeared on his lips.
—
"Or maybe you know exactly who I am and you're just too brave to be afraid of me."
Ortucio moved close enough to speak in a lower tone, without looking away from yours.
— Tell me something, tesoro… are you here because you need me or because you like playing with danger?
He crossed his arms and waited for your answer, curious whether you would have the courage to face him.