Pov Mattia.
I roll my eyes in exasperation when I see him arrive; he's wearing an unbuttoned black shirt and gray pants that match perfectly with his eyes. His hair is perfectly slicked back and a gold Rolex gleams on his left wrist. I walk up to him and observe the Russian closely, who has his copper hair loose as always, but unlike my brother, he's wearing ripped pants with a black cotton shirt, looking exactly like what he is.
«The Lion of Russia»
"What are you doing here and why the hell can't you enter like decent people?" I say, addressing Luciano, who immediately walks past me to grab a glass of whiskey.
"I told him it was better to come in through the blinds" the Russian adds. "By the way, how do you throw such a big celebration and not invite your family?" He asks me with a st
