(Vincenzo)
Dawn came quietly, like it was afraid to announce itself after the night we’d had.
The mansion looked untouched at a distance—white stone, clean lines, order restored. Up close, the truth showed itself in small details: cracked glass already replaced, scorch marks scrubbed from marble, men moving with the tense efficiency of soldiers who knew how close they’d come to failure.
I stood in the courtyard, hands clasped behind my back, watching Luca’s men work.
No one spoke unless necessary. No laughter. No unnecessary movement.
That silence told me more than reports ever could.
An attack on the Don’s residence wasn’t just an offense. It was a declaration. Someone had decided Luca Romano could be tested. Worse—someone believed he had something to lose.
I already knew what that
