That evening, Siena waited for Vittorio to return home. She needed to speak to him—about resuming her classes, about claiming the one part of her life that still felt like her own.
But the night stretched on, silent and cold.
Vittorio didn’t come home.
Neither did Cristiano.
The meeting at their secret base ran far too long.
The celebration for the crowning of the new Don roared with excess. As the night deepened, the atmosphere turned primal. The hall became a blur of hedonism. Liquor didn't just flow; it was spilled over naked dancers and stained floors. The heat in the hall was suffocating, thick with the stench of s*x and sweat as the party devolved into a sprawling group bang. Men took what they wanted right there on the furniture, while others dragged screaming women into the b
