Chapter 4

Lorenzo stepped out of the private corridor with long, measured strides, shutting the door behind him.

His breathing was steady. Only the veins standing out beneath his clenched fist betrayed the storm raging within him.

In one swift movement, he reached beneath his tailored jacket and pulled out the Desert Eagle resting against his waist. His fingers wrapped tightly around the grip as his eyes wandered toward the corridor leading back to the banquet hall.

One bullet.

One pull of the trigger.

That was all it would take to erase the disgrace the culprit had tried to bring upon the De Luca name.

"Il Re Nero."

The familiar voice halted his steps before another thought could follow.

He turned his head and found Vittorio Mancini standing a few metres away. His silver hair gleamed beneath the chandelier. His golden eyes reflected on the Desert Eagle in Lorenzo's hand.

Behind him stood eight armed men, each occupying a strategic position along the hallway.

Every entrance had already been sealed.

The staff had disappeared.

Even the security cameras had been redirected.

The entire wing had been emptied without disturbing the guests.

Lorenzo slowly lowered the pistol.

"I should have known," he said, his voice calm despite the rage simmering beneath it. "If you're already standing here, then everything has been taken care of."

Vitto inclined his head slightly.

"I considered it safer to prepare for your return than to wait for your orders."

Lorenzo studied him for a moment before letting out a quiet breath.

"You've been in this empire for years, Vittorio. Tell me truthfully..." His eyes settled on the Consigliere. "You already know what happened, don't you?"

"I know enough to understand Your Lordship's anger."

"And you know what I have done."

Vitto remained silent for a brief moment. Years of serving the De Luca family had taught him that silence often carried more respect than hurried words.

"What happened tonight was not Your Lordship's doing," he finally replied. "A sword cannot be blamed when another man forces it from its sheath."

“It wasn’t an enemy. I fear Matteo De Luca is only trying to get your attention and invite you to a game.”

Lorenzo gave a humourless smile as he lowered his pistol.

"For forty-two years, I have protected the dignity of this family. Tonight, my own son sought to drag my name through the mud."

Vitto took two unhurried steps forward.

"IL Re Nero, I humbly request you do Matteo an honor of accepting the game, rather than ending it. An opportunity to teach him one or twos."

"Nevertheless, he added. “If there is an evil deed that must be done," he paused and continued, "allow your Consigliere to bear it.

Let the world curse my name if it must, while yours remains beyond reproach. A king who protects his image protects his kingdom.”

For the first time that night, Lorenzo's expression softened ever so slightly.

Without another word, he extended the Desert Eagle toward him.

Vitto accepted the weapon respectfully with both hands before engaging the safety and slipping it beneath his jacket.

Only then did Lorenzo ask, "Tell me what you've found."

"I began investigating the moment you left the dining hall."

"So quickly?"

"A Consigliere who waits for certainty has already failed his Don."

He gave a faint nod, signalling him to continue.

"The bottle served to you was not the one that left the wine cellar. It was replaced shortly before dinner. I questioned every servant who handled it, reviewed the security rotation, and accounted for everyone who had access to the dining hall."

"And?"

"There was only one person capable of moving through every security checkpoint without being questioned."

Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.

"Matteo, and….”

"His squad of five."

The words settled heavily between them.

Lorenzo did not appear surprised.

If anything, the confirmation merely completed a thought that had already formed in his mind.

"Matteo De Luca," he murmured. "He chose tonight of all nights."

"I believe this was never about killing you."

"No," Lorenzo replied. "Death would've been too soon."

He turned toward one of the towering windows overlooking the illuminated estate.

"He wanted something far more valuable."

"The throne," Vittorio answered.

Lorenzo slowly shook his head.

"Not just that. If he desired only the throne, he would have challenged me openly."

His reflection stared back at him through the glass.

"He wanted my honour. A Don who cannot govern himself has no right to govern others. Had word spread that Lorenzo De Luca forced himself upon a maid servant or any other ladies he might've set up, every family in the Commission would have questioned my discipline."

“We don’t harm nor hurt unharmed ladies.”

Vittorio remained quiet.

He knew Lorenzo had reached the same conclusion he had.

Matteo had not tried to kill his father.

He had tried to destroy the legend surrounding him.

After a long silence, Lorenzo spoke again.

"The old rules still stand, Vittorio."

"They do, My Lord."

"I will not kill an enemy who has not yet pointed a gun."

He slowly clasped his hands behind his back.

"A man who strikes too early satisfies his anger. A man who waits satisfies justice."

Vittorio watched him carefully.

"So Your Lordship intends to wait?"

Lorenzo smiled, but there was no warmth behind it.

"I intend to repay him."

His grey eyes carried the same calm authority that had ended countless wars before they had begun.

"My son believes he has invited me into a game."

Another quiet smile appeared on his lips.

"It would be disrespectful of me not to accept the invitation."

Vittorio lowered his head respectfully.

He had seen that expression only a handful of times throughout his years beside the Black King.

It was the smile Lorenzo wore whenever he had already decided how the story would end.

And history had never been kind to those who mistook his patience for weakness.

[*********]

Rule I: Blood Answers Blood.

A life shall not be taken unless blood has first been drawn. A Don who kills without just cause becomes no better than a butcher.