THE MAFIA'S DOCTOR

The Bellini Enterprise was one of the most prestigious names in Solverra. Its name was associated with wealth, influence, and philanthropy. The family owned a successful medical supply company and one of the city's most luxurious hotels. Their businesses were thriving, and their frequent donations to charity had earned them the admiration of the public. Much of Solverra's infrastructure could be traced back to Fernando Bellini, the late founder of the enterprise. During his lifetime, he had invested heavily in the city's development, leaving behind a legacy that made the Bellini name almost untouchable. His grandson, Matteo Bellini, now controlled the empire. The headquarters stood proudly in the heart of Solverra. It was a twelve-storey building of brick and concrete, its imposing architecture inspired by structures Fernando had seen during his travels across Europe. Gargoyles decorated its exterior, giving it an appearance that was difficult to mistake for anything else in the city. To the ordinary citizen, the Bellini Enterprise was simply a successful family business. But appearances were often deceiving. Behind the charitable foundations, the respectable businesses, and the carefully maintained public image lay a vast criminal network. The Bellinis had deep connections with several mafia organisations and were involved in arms dealing, d**g trafficking, and other illegal operations. Their legitimate businesses provided the perfect cover for activities that would have destroyed the family's reputation if exposed. Matteo had inherited more than wealth and a name. He had inherited an empire that demanded strength, loyalty, and an occasional willingness to get his hands dirty. Unlike his father and grandfather, who had largely kept their operations within Solverra, Matteo had ambitions beyond the city. A year after taking over the family business, he began expanding their influence into neighbouring territories. His efforts had been successful, but expansion came with a price. Power attracted enemies. His rise had also brought him a wife. Their marriage had been arranged to secure the family's future and provide an heir. He had not loved Clarissa, but he had respected her. Six months into their marriage, she became pregnant and later gave birth to a boy whom Matteo named Damian. For a while, that had been enough. Three years after their marriage, Clarissa was killed by a rival group. Her death left Matteo with a son to raise and a guilt he had never quite managed to shake off. He had always wondered whether things might have turned out differently if he had been more careful. A year later, he discovered that an insider had betrayed them. A corrupt officer had supplied information to their enemies, making Clarissa's death possible. Matteo eventually found the officer and dealt with him personally, but the informant within his own organisation remained unidentified. Since then, trust had become a luxury Matteo rarely afforded anyone. Rafael, his right-hand man, was the only person he trusted with almost everything. Even so, Matteo had never stopped searching for the traitor. And then there was Jose. His rival had been unusually quiet lately. Matteo disliked that more than he would have liked to admit. Jose was not the sort of man to remain silent without a reason. Matteo stood before the French windows of his office, looking down at the city below. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his tailored trousers, and his expression was unreadable. The past few days had been uneventful. Business in Solverra was running smoothly, and there had been no major disturbances in Gravemont, the small city on the outskirts that Matteo controlled and used as a route for transporting arms and drugs. Ordinarily, that would have been good news. But Jose's men had made a habit of causing trouble in Gravemont. Their sudden absence was suspicious. A knock interrupted his thoughts. "Come in." The door opened, revealing Rafael. "It's time to pick up Damian from school." Matteo glanced at his wristwatch. "Already?" "Unless the school has decided to extend the day without informing us." Matteo turned away from the window, giving him a brief look. "Your sense of humour continues to amaze me, Rafael." "I try." For the past two years, Matteo had reserved Mondays and Fridays for picking Damian up from school. Valentina usually handled the responsibility, but he made an effort to be present whenever his schedule allowed. He might have been many things, but he did not want his son growing up believing his father had no time for him. "Rafael, I want you to check on the operations in Gravemont," Matteo said, reaching for his jacket. "Jose has been quiet, and I don't like it." "I can go there after dropping you and Damian off." "That won't be necessary. I'll drive myself." Rafael frowned. "Matteo—" "No need to argue. Go to Gravemont. We'll be fine." "If you insist." "Also, find out from Roberto how the sales of the last shipment to Don Pedro went. He promised to put in a word for us with Chen in Chigap." "I spoke with Don Pedro last night. He said he was pleased with the shipment, and so was his area. However, he wasn't certain Chen would feel the same way. He wants to show him the products personally when he visits." Matteo turned towards him. "And you didn't think to tell me?" "I was going to do so on the drive to Damian's school." "Convenient." Rafael shrugged. "Shall we?" Matteo picked up his car keys. "Let's go." --- The afternoon traffic was heavier than usual. Matteo drove through the busy streets, occasionally glancing at the cars around him. He preferred driving himself whenever he could. It gave him a little freedom from the constant presence of guards and assistants, even if Rafael strongly disagreed with the habit, of course he knew Rafael was right but he needed this free time. His phone rang through the car's Bluetooth. He glanced at the screen before answering. "Yes?" "Good afternoon, sir. It's Roberto." "Go ahead." "I just wanted to confirm that Don Pedro has received the shipment. Everything went smoothly, and all the goods were accounted for." "Rafael already informed me." "Very well, sir." Matteo ended the call and returned his attention to the road. He was approaching an intersection when he noticed a dark SUV several metres behind him. It had been there for a while, maintaining roughly the same distance. He checked his rear-view mirror. The SUV changed lanes. Matteo's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Perhaps it was nothing. He was not the sort of man who saw an enemy in every passing vehicle, but experience had taught him not to dismiss his instincts. He took a turn earlier than he normally would. The SUV followed. His jaw tightened. He reached for his phone, intending to call Rafael, but before he could unlock the screen, a black vehicle suddenly pulled out from a side street ahead of him. Matteo slammed his foot on the brakes. The car behind him accelerated. The impact came from the rear, sending his vehicle lurching forward. His shoulder struck the door, and his phone slipped from his hand. For a moment, he sat still, trying to process what had happened. Then the first gunshot shattered the afternoon. The rear window exploded into fragments. Matteo ducked instinctively, his hand reaching beneath his jacket for the pistol secured at his waist. Another shot struck the passenger-side window. He had barely managed to draw his weapon when a man emerged from the vehicle ahead. The man's face was partially concealed by a black mask. "Get out of the car!" Matteo didn't move. He fired through the broken window. The man stumbled backwards, and Matteo used the brief distraction to push open his door. He stepped out, keeping the vehicle between himself and the attackers. There were at least four of them. He fired again, forcing two men to take cover behind their SUV. Another moved towards him from the side. Matteo turned, but he was a fraction too slow. A sharp pain tore through his chest. He staggered backwards, his hand flying to the wound. For a second, the world seemed to slow down. He looked down at his shirt. Blood was spreading across the fabric, dark and unmistakable. He gritted his teeth. "Son of a—" Another bullet struck the car beside him. He forced himself upright and fired in the direction of the nearest attacker. The man ducked behind the vehicle. Matteo tried to move towards the driver's door, but his legs felt strangely unsteady. His breathing had become shallow, and every movement sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest. He needed to get away from the road. He needed to call Rafael. He needed to get to Damian. The thought of his son gave him enough determination to take another step. But the attackers were already retreating. A vehicle pulled away from the scene, followed by the SUV that had been trailing him. Within seconds, they had disappeared into traffic. Matteo watched them go, his vision beginning to blur. He tried to reach for his phone, but it was lying somewhere beneath the passenger seat. His knees weakened. He caught the edge of the car, struggling to remain standing. A few pedestrians had gathered at a distance. Some stared in horror, while others hurried away from the scene. A woman stood near the pavement with her phone pressed to her ear. "Please, send an ambulance! There's been a shooting!" Matteo attempted to straighten himself. He hated the helplessness of it. He had survived threats, betrayals, and countless attempts on his life. Yet here he was, bleeding on a public road, unable to do much more than watch strangers gather around him. His hand slipped from the car. He fell heavily onto the pavement. The last thing he heard before darkness began to take over was the distant wail of an approaching siren. Then everything went black.