The drive back to the Don’s estate felt surreal.
For years, this had been my home—my sanctuary, my battlefield, the place where I’d forged myself into the man I thought I was supposed to be. But now, the sight of it filled me with nothing but disgust. The towering gates, the sprawling mansion, the men patrolling the perimeter—it was all built on lies.
I tightened my grip on the wheel, the photograph tucked into my jacket feeling like a burning brand against my chest. Fabrizio’s words echoed in my mind: You’re my son. They stole you from me.
The Don had taken everything from me. My family, my childhood, my identity. And now, I was going to take it back.
The guards let me through without question, their faces familiar but untrustworthy. I parked the car and made my way inside, my footste
