SILK AND SCARS

CHAPTER 5

Morning came quickly, Vincenzo was already awake, standing by the glass wall, overlooking Milan as the city stretched into motion beneath him. The light was soft, but his expression was stern. Behind him, Lucia still lay in bed, though her eyes were open. “You’re leaving early.”

“I have to,” he replied without turning. “Is this about them?” he didn’t answer. He adjusted his cuff, grabbed his coat, and walked out.

Vincenzo’s was still in his thoughts when the elevator’s chime sounded. He didn’t look at the floor numbers. The doors slid open with a soft hiss. He simply stepped into the packing area, walked straight to where his car was, and drove straight to the club

On reaching to the club, he heads straight to his office, the chair gave a quiet creak as he sat, leaning back just a little to rest his spine, His hand reached behind him without looking, reaching for the minibar behind him, he took a glass from the bar and set it on the desk, the bottle followed, he filled the glass but didn’t take a sip immediately, he watched it for a few seconds before finally taking a sip

Then he reached into his coat, drew out a cigar, and turned it between his fingers before clipping the end. The lighter flicked as he lit it slowly, the first draw lingered, and smoke curled upwards

One of Vincenzo's men came knocking. Vincenzo didn’t answer; the door opened anyway. Vincenzo took another slow drink before glancing up.

“The… Sotto Capo of the Cosa Nostra is here to see you.” Vincenzo didn’t respond right away. He tapped the ash once and watched it fall, then finally said, “Where is he?”

The man shifted slightly, “He is at the VIP lounge, giving the circumstance… I could send him away,” Vincenzo’s lock eyes with the guard, “given what circumstances? Send him in,” the guard nodded, and the door shot behind him

Roberto slowly walked in, “I heard you’re in trouble.” While forming a faint smile, “Thought I’d come see it for myself,” Roberto slowly unbuttoned his coat as he moved. He drew the chair opposite Vincenzo and sat down slowly

“They say you’re the Sotto Capo of the Cosa Nostra.” Roberto leaned forward slightly, “They say a lot of things about you too…” his expression shifted to amusement. Vincenzo took a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling upward without breaking his gaze

“I heard… You now control your father's empire… You know, empires don’t get inherited; they get taken, and we’re looking to expand our operation.”

“We’re also looking to expand our operation, too, but we’re not the type of men that will go about it in the dishonorable way.” Vincenzo interrupted him, the cigar burned a little brighter as he drew from it again, his gaze didn’t leave Roberto

“I’m sure you got our message,” Roberto continued, “we would’ve killed you, if we wanted to.” he tilted his head slightly, “Do you want to know why we did not?” Vincenzo did not respond.

I’m… even surprised how easy it was to get into a room with you’’ Roberto's expression turned stern, “Vincenzo De Luca!! We want you to watch how everything your father built varnished before your own eyes.”

Vincenzo stares at him for a while without breaking his gaze, his expression hardening, “Welcome to Millan Signore Roberto Edoardo.”

“Grazie signore Vincenzo,” without saying another word, Roberto stood and slowly walked out of the office. The second the door closed with a click, Vincenzo’s hand snapped to the drawer and brought out his revolver, immediately aimed at the door, his fingers tightened around the grip, then he slammed the gun down onto the desk, letting out a loud exhale

Across the city at the private terminal, Matteo stood waiting, hands in his coat pockets, posture relaxed, watching everything. The jet door opened, and then Antonio Santoro stepped out. Matteo stepped forward, “Antonio.”

“Matteo,” Antonio replied. He looked at him briefly. “You look like you didn’t sleep,” Matteo smirked faintly. “We need to move, Vincenzo is waiting.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Antonio responded. Back at the club, the door behind him opened, and one of his men stepped in, “Matteo just landed.” Vincenzo gave a slight nod, the door opened again, this time Vincenzo turned, Matteo walked in first, and just behind him, Antonio. Vincenzo set his glass down slowly, “Antonio.”

Antonio stepped closer, adjusting his gloves slightly while maintaining his gaze with Vincenzo’s face, “You don’t call me to Milan unless they're bodies to take care of,” he said, while having a faint smile. “So… what is it?”

“Have you heard of… Roberto Edoardo”

“No,” he pauses, “I have not heard of a Roberto Edoardo, but… I have heard of the Edoardo brothers.” Vincenzo’s expression didn’t change. “Who are these brothers? Matteo adjusted himself, arms folding slowly, eyes flicking between them. Vincenzo reached into the drawer without another word and pulled out a photograph. He slid it across the desk toward Antonio.

Antonio picked it up, studying it carefully, Vincenzo eyes widened as he spoke “They hit the warehouse first,” His jaw tightened slightly “They went to my house after that” Antonio’s broke his gaze for few seconds “And then today…one Roberto Edoardo walks in here, Sits across from me like we’re negotiating” Antonio turned the photo once more, then set it down carefully on the desk,

“He said they want me to watch everything my father built… disappear.”

“He told you this himself?” Antonio interrupted, “Every word.” Antonio straightened slightly, adjusting his gloves, “Take me to the warehouse.”

Vincenzo didn’t hesitate; he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. “Matteo,” Vincenzo stepped closer, “I want every head of the other families summoned, and I want our best men ready, all of them.” Matteo gave a single nod. As they continue walking towards the door

The city skyline of Milan faded into the rearview mirror, replaced by the hilly areas of the countryside, Antonio sat in the back, his eyes half-closed, Matteo drove, Vincenzo watched the road ahead no one spoke, Antonio opened his eyes slowly, as the warehouse came into view, Still sealed, Police tape stretched across the entrance, they stepped out Antonio walked ahead of them this time, he stopped at the entrance, looked at the open doors then stepped inside, Vincenzo and Matteo followed.

The smell hit first, the first body was still there, covered but not hidden. Antonio crouched slightly. He stood there for a while before moving forward. The second body, then the third.

He walked slowly, eyes scanning everything: the spacing, the angles, the positions. “They weren’t surprised,” Vincenzo frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Antonio gestured lightly. “No signs of struggle beyond the kills themselves, no defensive wounds, they either trusted who came in…”

“…or they didn’t have time to react,” Matteo finished. Antonio nodded once. He moved again, “They entered clean, two men in front… one behind.” Matteo blinked. “You’re guessing.” Antonio shook his head slightly. “No,” He pointed toward the spacing between two bodies, “Look at the distance, these two dropped almost simultaneously, that requires coordination, a fourth man stays outside,” he added. “Perimeter control, watching for movement and also timing the exit.”

Vincenzo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re saying four men did all this?” Antonio stopped and turned, “I’m saying no more than four, possibly three.”

They reached the main room. Antonio stood still for a moment, then he stepped closer, “This…this is theater.” Matteo folded his arms. Antonio turned slightly, looking back. “They didn’t rush in, and they didn’t rush out. They knew exactly how long they had.” He stepped back, eyes moving once more across the room. “This isn’t a random strike… this is a signature.”

Vincenzo crossed his arms slightly. “From who?” Antonio didn’t answer immediately; instead, he walked slowly toward the exit. “Three families come to mind,” Matteo followed, “Which ones?” Antonio stepped outside into the open air before answering, “The Russians wouldn’t do this, too loud for them, too… artistic. The southern factions lack the discipline.” He turned back toward them. “That leaves only one group capable of this level of control.”

Vincenzo’s eyes darkened slightly. “Say it,” Antonio locks eyes with him, “…Edoardo brothers.”