SILK AND SCARS

CHAPTER 4

Vincenzo brought the car to a stop in front of Matteo’s apartment. Matteo reached for the handle and pushed the door open, one foot already out before he hesitated, “Whatever you’re thinking…” Matteo murmured, “Just make sure you’re not the only one thinking it.” Vincenzo didn’t respond. Matteo stepped out and slammed the door shut.

The car didn’t move for a few seconds, Vincenzo staring at the empty street through the rearview mirror, after which he tightened his grip on the steering wheel before slamming on the accelerator, his gaze didn’t linger or flicked as he drove straight towards the Bosco Verticale, the gates opened without delay, he drove into the underground parking, the engine echoing briefly before dying into silence, for a moment, he sat there, Staring at the windshield after a while he stepped out.

The elevator ride to the penthouse was smooth and Quiet, but every second felt stretched. When the doors finally opened, he walked through the hallway and then stopped a few feet from the heavy oak door. He slowly reached for his pocket, brought a set of keys, and opened the door

He stepped forward slowly, the floor barely making a sound beneath his feet, the door clicked shut behind him, his gaze sweeping the entire living room, while moving forward slowly, “Lucia?” he called out, no answer, His jaw tightened Slowly, he slipped his hand inside his coat and drew his revolver, Checked it, and moved forward, each step across the marble floor was controlled and measured, his eyes continues to scanned everything, the reflections in the glass, the corners, the spaces between objects, he moved deeper into the penthouse, past the living area, toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Then a sound, he could barely hear it, he stopped and listened, A faint shift of fabric. Vincenzo c****d the gun, then from the darkness at the end of the hallway a figure stepped forward. Immediately, he lowered the gun. “You’re late,” she asked

“Why are the lights different?” She hesitated for a few seconds. “I had company.” His eyes widened immediately. “Who?” she stepped closer into the light, and he noticed a faint mark on her wrist

Vincenzo’s grip tightened on the gun, “Lucia… They didn’t hurt me,” she said quickly. “Who was here?” he asked again.

Lucia stares at him, and a puzzled expression crosses her face. “I don’t know their names,” she said, “But they knew yours.” his expression turned stern. “What did they want?”

Lucia hesitated, “They said to tell you something.” He took a step closer. “Say it,” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “They said… they said hope you got the message at the warehouses.” Vincenzo didn’t blink. “Want else?” She turned, walking toward the glass table near the living area. Vincenzo followed suit.

Sitting at the center of the table was a small black box. Vincenzo stared at it for a while. “Did you open it?”

Lucia shook her head, “They said it was only for you.” Of course, it was, Vincenzo stepped closer and carried the box. He opened it, inside a single photograph, he picked it up, and immediately his face contorted with rage

Lucia looked at him, her voice barely steady “Vincenzo… what is it?” he didn’t answer, he turned and walked straight to his home office, the door shut behind him with a quiet click, He moved to the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and stared at the glass for a while before walking to his desk and sat down, He opened the drawer brought out a cigar, and placed it between his lips, lit it, then leaned back slightly in his chair.

The photograph lay in front of him. Vincenzo said nothing; he just stared at the photograph. Smoke curled into the air as he took a slow drag, minutes passed, then, finally, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialed, it rang once, “Vincenzo?” Matteo’s voice came through. “What is it?”

“They came to my house.”

“…What?” Matteo’s voice came through

Vincenzo exhaled slowly, smoke leaving his lips as his eyes remained fixed on the photograph. “They were inside,” Matteo’s tone snapped. “You’re serious?”

“They meet Lucia,” Vincenzo continued

“Is she safe?” Matteo interrupts again, “Yes,” he responded, “What did they want?” Matteo asked, Vincenzo tapped the photograph lightly against the table, and dragged the cigar, Slower this time “It was about me.”

“Vincenzo…” Matteo interrupts again, “What aren’t you telling me?”

Vincenzo leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the desk, “They left something,” his eyes darkened, “A photograph.” Matteo didn’t interrupt again. “It’s all of us,” Vincenzo continued. “The entire family… and my face is circled.” A sharp inhale on the other end, “Jesus…” Matteo muttered, Vincenzo leaned back again, the cigar glowing faintly in the dim light.

“This isn’t just a warning,” Matteo said. “This is either a direct attempt on your life… or a threat.” Vincenzo’s lips curved slightly.

“Vincenzo,” Matteo said, more serious now, “whoever these people are, they're either stupid or powerful enough to do this.”

“I know,” Vincenzo responds. “Then we don’t wait,” Matteo pressed. “We move first, we find them first.”

“No,” Vincenzo cut in sharply. Matteo stopped. “We don’t chase them,” Vincenzo said quietly, “That’s exactly what they want.”

“Then what do we do?” Vincenzo looked down at the photograph one more time, but this time he focused on his own face. Then, he crushed the cigar slowly into the ashtray, “We let them think I’m thinking about it.” Matteo frowned. “Thinking about what?”

Vincenzo’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Call Antonio Santoro,” Vincenzo said quietly. “Tell him I want him in Milan by tomorrow.” Matteo didn’t interrupt this time. “And Matteo…” Vincenzo added, “We need to find out who that card belongs to and how it got to the warehouse, that’s our entry point… whoever left it, whoever wanted it found that’s the thread we pull, you might be a target too, so stay low, no unnecessary movement until we understand what we’re dealing with.” Matteo exhaled. “…Alright.” The line went dead.

Vincenzo lowered the phone slowly, finishing the last of his whiskey in a single swallow. He stood up and left the office. The bedroom door was slightly open. Inside, Lucia sat at the edge of the bed. She looked up the moment he entered. “How is he?” she asked softly. “Your father…” “Stable,” Vincenzo replied. “For now, but we don’t know for how long,” Lucia nodded, her expression tightening slightly, “I pray he responds to the treatment.” Her eyes widened, “Vincenzo… who were those people? And what is going on?”

He didn’t answer immediately, “Everything is fine, you don’t need to worry.” Lucia sighed heavily. “Don’t do that, I’m not a child,” she continued, her voice rising just slightly. “You can’t stand there and tell me everything is fine after what happened tonight, she shook her head. “I’m your wife, Vincenzo. I deserve to know what’s happening.”

He stares at her for a moment, then turns and walks to the closet, removing his jacket, then his shirt. Each movement is slow and methodical, controlled.

Lucia watched him the entire time. He changed into his nightwear and closed the closet, after which he walked slowly to the edge of the bed and Sat beside her. Seconds passed, he said nothing then, quietly, “You know I will always keep you safe.”

Lucia stares at him, locking eyes with him. He gently pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her, then slowly guiding her down onto the bed. She rested her head against his arm, her eyes open while listening to his erratic heartbeat