MORANO’S MANSION – Logan’s Room “How bad?” he asked. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the silence — a quiet demand wrapped in a storm of control. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and clean linens, humming softly with the quiet rhythm of medical monitors. White gauze wrapped around Logan’s midsection, streaked lightly with dried blood. The pale green glow from a small lamp cast long shadows over his unconscious body, rising and falling in shallow breaths. Leonard stood near the foot of the bed, his hands clenched at his sides, the darkness under his eyes deep and telling. Dr. Asher Ryder didn’t look at him. He pressed the end of his stethoscope against Logan’s chest, listening to the weak rhythm of the boy’s heartbeat. The doctor’s movements were meticulous, clinical, and without urgency — the kind born from years of navigating between bullets and blood in the shadows of crime families. “Worse than I expected,” he finally said. “Cracked ribs. A deep knife woun
Saint Peter's Castle – Flashback The black sedan pulled up in front of Saint Peter’s Castle. Its windows gleamed under the moonlight like the eyes of a waiting predator. Inside, Leonard leaned forward, voice low and sharp. “Massimo, take two men with you and find Logan,” he instructed firmly, his eyes fixed on the looming castle. “What? That’s risky,” Massimo said, visibly disturbed. His hands clenched against his thighs, his instincts bristling. “That place is a trap.” “I know. That’s why I need to buy time. Diego’s waiting for me. If we go in together, we all get slaughtered. You heard what Luca said — Diego won’t let any of us walk out alive.” Leonard’s voice was calm but heavy with conviction. A knock came at the window. Massimo flinched, then slowly rolled the glass down. Luca leaned into the car, his hands stained with blood, his face smeared with streaks of red and sweat. He held out a crumpled, bloody overall. “I knew you wouldn’t trust me,” Luca said, panting slightly.
Saint Peter’s Castle – RooftopNight cloaked the rooftop in a curtain of shadows, the air tense and still. Four guards stood outside, weapons gripped tight, their eyes scanning the dark horizon. Inside the rooftop chamber, Diego Rossi sat calmly at a sleek metal table, sipping from a porcelain cup of espresso like he had all the time in the world. Two stone-faced men stood behind him, eyes locked on the entrance.The metal doors groaned open.Leonard strode in, flanked by four of his own men. In his hand, he carried a sleek black briefcase with reinforced steel latches. The click of his boots against the concrete was the only sound aside from the soft breeze whistling through the old castle walls.“You came,” Diego said, not even looking up. “I was beginning to think brotherly love had a price tag.”Leonard didn’t smile. “Everything has a price. Yours is always louder than most—like a baby crying because he’s hungry.”Diego finally looked up, a smirk twitching at the edge of his lips.
PRIVATE JET – EN ROUTE TO NAPLES "Where are we?" Victoria asked, her voice calm, low, and piercing as she picked up the glass of cocktail from the center table. The scent of expensive liquor lingered in the air like a slow-burning fuse. She sat poised like a queen in exile — mysterious, cold, and dressed in a tailored black coat that wrapped her like armor. Her gloves remained on, untouched by warmth. Her eyes, shadowed with kohl and memory, watched the clouds outside like old enemies. The man seated across from her shifted nervously. He was middle-aged, professional, clearly intelligent, but his fingers fidgeted with the edge of the open file resting on his lap. His crisp gray suit was immaculate, yet he looked like he was aging rapidly in her presence. "We’ll touch down in Naples in less than an hour," he said, clearing his throat as he leaned forward. "I’ve compiled the latest on Leonard Morano… but I should warn you—things have changed since your last encounter." Victoria let
MORANO'S MANSION — SITTING ROOM The air inside the Morano mansion was colder than usual, thick with tension as Leonard descended the grand staircase, his expression unreadable but sharp like a blade freshly pulled from ice. His footsteps echoed across the marble floor, each one ringing with the quiet fury he barely contained. Massimo trailed behind him, his posture stiff and guarded. Down in the sitting room stood Luca Rossi—unflinching, hands at his sides, chin slightly lifted like a soldier presenting himself to a firing squad. Two Morano guards flanked him, hands hovering near their weapons. They didn’t need orders to act; they could see it in Leonard’s eyes. One wrong move from Luca and he’d be silenced without hesitation. Leonard’s voice was the first to slice through the tension. “What is a Rossi doing in my house?” His tone was calm, but venom seeped through each word. As he took his seat, reclining like a king surveying a trespasser in his court, his eyes didn’t leave Lu
Sophia's POV MORANO’S MANSION – LEONARD’S ROOM "You look sober now. That’s nice. Too bad you couldn’t manage that last night. You slept like nothing happened. Must be nice to forget a disaster with a bottle of champagne," Leonard said coldly. His voice was calm—too calm. That was worse than shouting. I had just opened my eyes, my body still warm beneath the silk sheets, but my stomach turned to ice at the sound of his voice. I sat up slowly, the headache from last night’s drink still faintly thudding behind my eyes. "Leonard…" I started gently, guilt already creeping in. "I’m fine. I didn’t mean to—" I tried to explain before he snapped again. "You didn’t mean to? I warned you, Sophia. Explicitly. No drinks. Not even water unless it came from my hand. That party was full of enemies." His voice was sharper now, cutting through the morning like a blade. "I'm sorry. I was busy talking to Damian when the maid served the drink. It wasn't intentional!" I defended myself, my heart po