Alessandro's POV
Chicago. Concrete and steel. A cold, gray city that scraped at the sky, a stark contrast to the warm, ancient stones of Rome. I stepped off the jet, the biting wind a slap in the face, a hostile welcome to enemy territory. Nico and Lorenzo followed close behind, their faces grim, their eyes scanning the tarmac, the perimeter, their movements precise, alert, the years of training, of living in the shadows, ingrained in their very being. My men, the rest of my team, fanned out, securing the area, their presence a silent declaration of my power, my reach, even in this unfamiliar landscape.
I took a deep breath, the cold air burning my lungs, a stark reminder of the fire that raged within me, the cold fury that had been simmering since I’d received the news, the chilling con
