One
"We've found her, boss," they said, their voices triumphant. A smug smile spread across Camillo's face as he received the update from his men. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he replied, "Send me the address. I'll be there shortly." He ended the call, his fingers drumming against the armrest.
He turned to his father, Petros Andreas, who was reclining on the plush sofa, a glass of rich, red wine cradled in his hand. The warm glow of the fireplace danced across his face, casting a golden light on his aging features. "Father, I need to attend to something. If you don't mind, I'll take my leave now."
Petros Andreas's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing in curiosity. "Where are you off to?"
Camillo chuckled, a low, throaty sound, as he rose from his seat. "Somewhere, Father. You were the one who wanted a grandchild, weren't you?"
Petros Andreas's face lit up with a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with delight. He nodded, lifting the cup of wine to his lips, the aroma of oak and berries wafting up. "Very well, then. Don't forget about dinner. We have important things to discuss."
As Camillo walked out of the lounge, the soft click of the door echoed through the room. Petros Andreas's gaze turned to his second son, Adonis, who had been silently observing the exchange. His presence was almost forgotten in fact.
"And why are you still sitting here?" Petros's voice rose, his voice scolding. "Seems like you want your brother to have everything without a competition! He's back to get a wife, and you're just sitting here!" His voice was rising by the second and soon, he was yelling.
Adonis didn't budge. He didn't even blink. He merely put his phone into his pocket as he rose to his feet, standing tall,"If that's all, then I'll take my leave now. " He didn't even wait for his father to dismiss him. He simply walked out of the room.
As he descended, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly Camillo had meant by 'grandchildren'. So he'd returned to Italy just to take a bride? Did he have someone in mind or was he going to pay some girl to pretend to be his bride just so he could acquire all the family fortune?
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Adonis paused, his gaze sweeping the lavish foyer. With a swift motion, Adonis retrieved his phone and sent a text to his men: "Follow him. I want to know everything!"
As he slipped the phone back into his pocket, Adonis's eyes narrowed, his jaw setting in a firm line.
***
Serena had just finished serving the last customers when she heard her fellow worker call, "Take out the trash!"
She nodded and went to drop the plates into the kitchen. She'd wash them after taking out the trash. She was already pale with tiredness but she didn't have a choice. As she walked away, she could hear the bell above the restaurant door chim, indicating someone had come in.
"Sorry sir. We're closed for today." was the last thing she heard as she walked out the door leading to the exit of the restaurant she worked in.She worked in one of the most visited Italian restaurant on Casoretto and she couldn't afford to lose the job.
With a deep breath, Serena stepped into the darkness, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows behind her. The air was heavy with the smell of decay and rotting food, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Her heart racing, she glanced around cautiously, the silence broken only by the distant barks of dogs.
With two trash bags in her hand, she began to walk towards the alley where they usually drop the trash bags. It was already late and only few people were passing. She could see a flashy car in front of the restaurant and she wondered whom it belonged to given that this street wasn't exactly a place wealthy people come to.
As she got to the dumpster, hoping to just drop the trash and leave. As she put the bags down, she turned to walk out of the place but she heard footsteps before her.
Her heart jumped as a wonky looking man walking towards her. He reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. "Hi girl. What are you doing here all by yourself?"
She forced herself to bite back the scream that rose up her throat. She knew it wasn't wise to venture out to the dumpster at night, but she had no other choice. If she didn't take out the trash, her spiteful colleagues might report her to Signor Rossi, the demanding restaurant manager, who was notorious for his zero-tolerance policy. Losing this job, her sole means of support, wasn't an option.
She had been in a similar situation before and knew how to protect herself. Her hand instinctively reached for the pocket knife she always carried, a habit formed after an experience few months ago.
Without wasting time, he lunged toward her. Serena reacted instinctively, lifting the knife and stabbing outward. The blade sank into flesh, and a pained grunt echoed in the darkness. The man crumpled, his body sagging against the dumpster before collapsing to the ground.
Serena froze, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum. Had he fainted?
Anxiety wrestled with instinct, and she squatted beside him, her free hand probing the darkness for his arm to feel his pulse. Her fingers trembled, making it hard to focus.
Instead of finding his wrist, her fingers dipped into something warm and viscous.
Blood.
Serena's face drained of color, her vision blurring at the edges. The knife slipped from her grasp, clattering softly on the ground.
She began to shake him, her voice trembling. "Mister? Are you okay? Mister?"
Her mind reeled. Is he dead? Had she killed him?Panic set in, her thoughts spiraling.
What now?
Just then, she heard the shuffling of feet. Serena knew she had to flee. What if someone stumbled upon the scene and saw she'd killed someone? The thought sent a chill down her spine. She'd be arrested, tried, and sentenced to death.
Serena quickly scrambled to her feet and staggered out of the dark alley. The streets were now empty, the only sound her ragged breathing. The sole source of light, a lamppost ahead, cast an unsteady glow, its dim light flickering on and off.
As Serena half-ran, half-walked, she could feel the footsteps closing in. Closer. Closer. Closer. 'Run.' she chided herself, but before she could muster the energy, someone grabbed her from behind and slammed her against the nearest wall.
Serena cried out in pain, but a hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her. A dark, velvety voice whispered in her ear, "Not so fast, little darling."
The words sent a shiver down her spine. Bells rang in her head at the voice. The familiarity of the words, the "Little darling". Her heart pounded against her ribcage as her tightly shut eyes peeked open, dreading the coming moment.
Just then, the lamppost above them flickered to life, shedding light on the person holding her against the wall.
Serena's gaze locked onto the face before her, and her blood ran cold.
Oh no.
