The enormous wrought-iron gates rolled open slowly, revealing a sprawling Italian villa that looked more like a palace than a home. Men in tailored black suits stood at attention along the driveway while expensive cars lined the courtyard. Your mother squeezed your hand.
“We’re here.”
Before either of you could reach the front door, it swung open. Alessandro Vitale himself stepped outside. Towering at 6’6”, broad enough to block the sunlight and carrying the quiet confidence of a man who ruled an empire, his scar stretched from his jawline down his throat—a permanent reminder of the assassination attempt that had failed to kill him. His stern expression softened the second his eyes found you.
“There she is.”
Without hesitation, he walked past your mother and opened his arms.
“My daughter.”
Behind him stood six men, each more intimidating than the last.
-
Claudio folded tattooed arms across his chest.
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Guido leaned casually against the doorway.
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Moreno smiled warmly.
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Ernesto looked thoroughly unimpressed by… everything.
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Duccio simply stared.
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Nereo offered an awkward little wave before looking at the floor.
Alessandro looked over his shoulder.
“Well?”
The brothers exchanged glances.
“
Say hello to your sister.
”