Salvatore Romano was a man of many talents and even more expertise. Efficient, punctual, quick-witted, loyal, and trustworthy. His father worked for Arcangelo's father, but never obtained the position which Salvatore did. And now, Salvatore worked for Arcangelo. He joined the Mafia when he was 23, and now being 35, he had been a part of the Regnante household for 12 years.
Rosalie did not fare well in the morning when consciousness brought her out of her drunken haze. Her eyelids weighed a ton as she tried to recall how to open them, her mouth tasted absolutely repugnant as the vileness had her almost gag with her stomach churning in unease. A desolate moan slipped past her chapped lips as she wrapped her arms around her abdomen in hopes to relieve some of the tension, a momentary relief.
A laugh tore through Rosalie as she ran behind the two little children who giggled hysterically, both of them scurrying away from her. Their footsteps and joy echoing off the walls of the barely inhabited estate.
Arcangelo awoke with a groan, rubbing his eyes as he felt a pounding headache hammer against his forehead."Fuck." He groaned in pain as he bli
The surveillance room, like any ordinary surveillance room, was filled with monitors depicting various scenes of events going on. Three men were lazing in their seats, either blankly staring at the monitors or their phones, while one of them was sleeping. The smell of stale coffee drifted in the air as various snack wrappers were strewn across the floor.
Rosalie brushed the tangles out of her freshly blow-dried hair as she settled them. Applying her makeup, she looked down at her phone and noted that she needed to be leaving. Pulling on a pair of nude pencil heels, she wore her faun overcoat on top of her full attire which consisted of a black high neck and jeans. Grabbing her purse, she received the message that Dante was downstairs and waiting for her.
Even after University had resumed and everything was back to the way it had been, Rosalie could not get accustomed to the fact that she had guards watching her. The first week, one guard stayed in the car, while the other followed her around, maintaining his distance from her, but keeping her in eyesight.
Four days of nonstop working and investigation, and it all led nowhere. Arcangelo and Vincent had dealt with every possible person--hell, they even interrogated anyone that may have the slightest possibility of being involved--yet, they were nowhere close to finding the mole.
Darkened grey smudges of wool threateningly surrounded the sky; like a predator would encircle its prey. A startling low rumble rang loud in the cool fall air, the sky roaring with satisfaction. Trickles of liquid hit the ground with as much force as a small child. Hungrily, drizzles turn into canon fires, barricading everything in its way. A sense of cleanliness caresses the atmosphere, washing away all impurities.