Chapter 2. A King Without A Crown
831 Words
The corridor outside Operating Theatre One was painfully silent.
No one spoke.
No one dared to.
The only sound was the ticking of the clock hanging above the doors.
Tick...
Tick...
Tick...
Serafina sat between her mother and brother, her hands still stained with dried blood.
She stared blankly at them, remembering how desperately she had tried to stop the bleeding.
It hadn't been enough.
Luciana reached over and gently closed her daughter's fingers.
"Don't look at your hands anymore," she whispered.
Serafina looked up at her mother.
For the first time that night, she saw the tears Luciana had been trying so hard to hide.
Before either woman could speak again, the operating room doors opened.
The surgeon stepped out.
His shoulders slumped with exhaustion.
Cassian already knew.
He saw it in the man's eyes before a single word was spoken.
"I'm sorry."
"We did everything we could."
"The Don didn't survive."
Silence.
It was as though the entire hospital had stopped breathing.
Luciana closed her eyes.
One tear escaped before she quietly whispered,
"My husband..."
Serafina couldn't move.
She couldn't cry.
She simply stared at the doctor, hoping he would take the words back.
Cassian lowered his head.
His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.
The surgeon spoke again.
"You may see him now."
...
The room felt strangely peaceful.
Machines had been switched off.
The chaos of the operating theatre had disappeared.
Don Lorenzo Caravelli lay quietly beneath a white sheet.
He no longer looked like the man who had commanded fear throughout Italy.
He looked like a husband.
A father.
A man finally at rest.
Luciana was the first to walk forward.
She gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.
"You promised we'd grow old together," she whispered.
Her voice broke.
"I wasn't ready to say goodbye."
Serafina looked away, tears finally escaping down her cheeks.
Cassian remained near the foot of the bed.
He had imagined this moment many times growing up.
Not because he wanted it...
But because every mafia heir knew one day his father would leave him the family.
He had simply never imagined it would happen like this.
He stepped closer.
Resting one hand on the edge of the bed, he lowered his head.
"I'll protect them."
His voice was barely audible.
"I swear it."
A nurse quietly entered the room.
"I'm sorry to interrupt."
She hesitated before continuing.
"We need to prepare his body."
Luciana nodded slowly.
She kissed Lorenzo's forehead one last time.
"Come."
She reached for Serafina's hand.
Cassian took one last look at his father before turning away.
None of them looked back as they left the room.
Moments later...
The hospital staff wheeled Don Lorenzo Caravelli toward the private morgue.
...
Outside the hospital, dawn was beginning to break.
Most of the guests who had attended the gala had already been questioned and released.
No suspect had been identified.
The assassin had vanished without leaving a trace.
Inside a private waiting room, familiar faces filled the silence.
Enzo Morelli, house Caravelli's longtime consigliere stood quietly near the window, his weathered face unreadable.
Alessandro Ricci, the family's underboss, leaned against the wall with folded arms.
Marco De Santis, head of house Caravelli's security, had spent the past hour coordinating security around every Caravelli property.
None of them needed introductions.
Cassian had known these men since childhood.
They had stood beside his father for decades.
As Cassian entered the room, every conversation stopped.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Finally, Enzo broke the silence.
"The funeral should be held in three days."
Cassian nodded.
"Make the arrangements."
Marco looked up from his phone.
"Our security has already doubled around the estate."
"Good."
Alessandro sighed quietly.
"The city already knows something happened last night."
Cassian looked at him.
"But they don't know everything."
"They soon will."
The room fell silent again.
No one needed to explain what Alessandro meant.
A man like Don Lorenzo could not disappear from the public eye without questions being asked.
Sooner or later...
The truth would spread.
Enzo stepped beside Cassian.
"You should go home."
Cassian shook his head.
"I'll leave after Mother and Serafina."
Enzo didn't argue.
He simply rested a reassuring hand on the young heir's shoulder before walking away.
For the first time in his life...
Cassian felt completely alone.
...
Hundreds of miles away...
A secure telephone rang inside a quiet office.
A man answered.
"Yes."
The voice on the other end spoke calmly.
"There was an attack in Milan last night."
A brief pause followed.
"Don Lorenzo Caravelli is dead."
Silence.
The man looked out through the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Barcelona.
"Has it been confirmed?"
"It has."
Another pause.
"Very well."
"We'll pay our respects when the family announces the funeral".
The line went dead.
The man placed the receiver back on its cradle before returning to the document on his desk.
Outside his office...
The name Thiago Valcázar remained engraved on the polished brass plaque.
- Writer
