CHAPTER 4

Marcello

Regnum club pulsed with life, the music booming until it felt like the walls were moving with the beat. Regnum shined across the street outside, drawing people in like moth chasing light. Inside the black marble floor gleamed, reflecting flashes of light, while crystal fixtures scattered sparks over the crowd.

Many think it's a place for pleasure. I knew it for what it truly was. The private rooms above the dance floor weren't for drinking, they were for businesses, keeping order and for reminding me where power lived.

The crowd parted as soon as I stepped inside. No one needs to hear my name to recognize me. Heads turn, silent gasps, voice low. My presence alone commands authority that clears paths.

I was dressed in a sharp buttoned black suit that opened a little bit of skin. My men followed from behind unnecessarily. The room already made space for me.

Men of caliber filled the VIP lounge as a gambling session was going on. The air shifted as I walked by, the strippers who were entertaining the men lowered their heads slightly until I walked into my office.

“Sir Alessandro arrived not long ago. He is in the lounge waiting,” one of my men notified me as the door to my office was opened. “Should I tell him you are —”

With one wave of my hand, he stopped. “Get me that bastard who stole my gold first,” I said, my voice cold and commanding.

I sat on my armchair, lighted a cigar between my fingers and let them burn low, smoke trailing up as my jar tightened.

If only the fool knows what he pulled himself into.

The door opened. My men dragged him in, battered, bleeding and barely able to stand. They dropped him at my feet and stepped back to stay by the side.

The fool whimpered, dragging his battered body to where I sat. “Please, forgive me, Capo. It was the devil's handiwork,” he begged, holding onto my legs tightly.

My eyes blazed with anger, matching the flames of my cigar. “Devil's handiwork.” A maniac laughter erupted out of my mouth, echoing across the room.

I leaned forward, brushing my cigar ash on his head. “The devil can't steal from me. Men do and they pay,” I said in a low, cold and sharp tone.

I rose from my chair, pointing my pistol directly to his head. His pleas choked to his throat, eyes widened with terror. With one pull of the trigger, he stopped breathing.

His body collapsed at my feet. I exhaled the smoke and said, “The only place meant for traitors and thieves is six feet in the ground.”

I walked to the window, staring down at the lighted city. The door opened and Alessandro was ushered in by my boys.

“Hey bro,” Alessandro greeted as we exchanged pleasantries before we both sat down.

“Sandro.” I said, returning the gesture causally.

He grabbed the whiskey on the table and poured himself a drink. Alessandro and I have come a very long way and have been close friends because of his loyalty.

“I think we should celebrate you successfully taking down your enemy,” he said, raising his glass to a toast.

My brows arched. “Is that why you are here?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Is it a crime to pay my friend a visit?” Alessandro said, gulping the drink.

The room fell into a silence for a moment before he broke it.

Sandro leaned in, eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you plan on doing with Solane?"

I didn't answer right away, and that seemed to surprise him.

“You brought her here…why?” he said. “I thought your plan was to kill her alongside her father. Wasn't that the reason you said I should marry her, in case your plan didn't work, mine will?”

The question was simple but it's weighty. What's my plan? I hadn't even given myself the answer.

I puffed out smoke from my nostrils, leaning forward. “It's nothing for you to be worried about.”

“It wouldn't make me worry if you were usually like this,” he said, his voice taking an edge. “You don't spare people, especially traitors without reasons.”

My jaw twitched.

“Is she here because of her father?” He said with a low tone.

Her father was no man, only a treacherous devil who enjoyed hurting people. It was my right to end him and I have successfully done that.

I gritted my teeth, not willing to give him words I haven't sorted out myself.

His eyes bored into mine, testing the weight of my silence. “What are you keeping her alive? Do you want to punish her or protect her by keeping her by your side?” He said, his words dropping like a pin in the quiet room.

The room fell into maddening silence. ‘Why am I keeping her alive?’I said in my thoughts, staring out of the window.

Her father committed heinous crimes the kind that left scars too deep to ever fade. Erasing his bloodline was the only way to ensure that every of his roots is uprooted alongside him.

But then her face flashed before my eyes accompanied with memories I had created with her in the past two years, her smiles, her laughing at bad jokes making my resolve shake. Part of me wanted to spare her but I swore to clear out Gambino's family to the last.

Can I ever bring myself to finish what I swore to do till the end? What do I do about her?

“Are you in love with your enemy’s daughter?” Sandro's voice broke the silence.

His question struck a chord in me. I shove the thought down in denial because it couldn't be true.

Sandro watched me, waiting.

“What I want to do with her isn't none of your business,” I replied coldly, shutting him out.

He raised his hands slightly as if to show that he wouldn't bring it up again.“Alright brother…I will leave you to it,”he said quietly before excusing himself.

I stood there staring out of the window, my mind still undecided on what to do with her.