The fight

Luciano Cavalcante and I grew up together in Sicily. During the holidays, I used to go to my grandparents' house in Palermo. There was a group of us, friends of similar ages. We had common goals, dreams, and aspirations, even though we came from different backgrounds. Childhood friendships are formed on entirely different principles than adult relationships. We were pure souls, longing for sincere, principled friendships, unpolluted by the daily life of adults. We bonded deeply, swearing eternal friendship, mutual support, and integrity in how we treated each other. As we grew up, everyone went their separate ways. We would still meet periodically at various events, fondly remembering our childhood moments—the sincerity of those early bonds—and realizing how unprincipled present-day life had become, how different social relationships were, with the environments we came from forcing us to align just to survive.

I met Luciano again during my studies in London. At first, everything was fine. For a period, I was also classmates with your brothers. Between your family and me, a friendship built on solid, honest principles was established back then. We began various mutually profitable business collaborations, always based on fair play.

When Luciano saw my financial stability, he came to borrow money from me. As a rule, I do not lend money. However, I offered to help him and gave him a business opportunity that, if handled correctly, would have provided him with a decent capital to solve all his problems. Instead, he stole, lied, and brought in other shady individuals with completely different motives. I was forced to step back, leaving him to solve the mess he had created on his own.

Around that same time, your father proposed an alliance between our families—a marriage to you. I didn't know you; I had only seen you once when you were twelve years old, but I was so impressed by you that I said yes. Both families were more than happy with this arrangement. Naturally, we decided that everything would take place once you reached adulthood. Except you decided to choose a different path in life. I believed that was fair to you, and I respected it.

I don't know how, but Luciano found out about the marriage arrangement. And, of course, he looked for you. But when he saw you, he developed an obsession with you. When you returned home, he became your shadow. For a long time, you didn't notice him. When you finally did, he grew bolder, especially starting from the night of the ball, and his obsession deepened—partly to possess you, and partly to strike me where it hurts most. And I know he won't stop now. Especially since, over the last six years, he has allied himself with shady circles and now leads the Alliance of Western Italy, the Syndicate controlling the western coast and the ports of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

We are major rivals. I lead The Chicago Outfit, which dominates the entire central and western regions of the United States. The Italian Syndicate in New York and the whole East Coast—which has international ramifications between Italy and the US—gives my loyal partners and me access to immense financial resources, high-level private security, and advanced laboratory technology."

I look at Dante, my mind racing frantically.

"How much of your business is legitimate?"

"About 78%. The rest is on the edge, but currently undergoing restructuring. You can ask me anything. I will answer every question truthfully. You are the woman I love and with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. I want you to know everything about me and what I do. I have nothing to hide, and I answer for every action of mine. I do not answer for actions taken by anyone else."

A deep silence fell over the room. I stared ahead, seeing nothing, trying to recover mentally. This news had shaken me deeply. I felt the need to leave, to get some distance, to clear my head.

I looked at the man beside me. I didn't know what I felt—about him, about myself, or about this whole situation.

I tried to stand up, but my body betrayed me. I collapsed right beside the bed. The noise drew Dante in. He immediately came over and lifted me in his arms, but he didn't put me back in bed. Instead, he placed a thick robe over my shoulders and set me down on the sunlit terrace.

"I know you need a change of scenery, some fresh air... maybe not to see me."

"No. It's true that I feel the need to be alone with my thoughts for a little while, with everything I learned tonight, but I don't feel the need to be far from you. I need you beside me. First, because you give me a sense of security. Second, because I am very weak, and you can help me. And because I will certainly have more questions that only you can answer."

"Is that all?"

"That's all for now. I don't want to lie to you. I can't offer more at the moment. If you're in a hurry, that's your problem. I am taking as much time as I need—with or without you by my side."

"Evelyn, I will never leave your side. Even if you don't want me, I will be there to protect you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you ever again. You have suffered more in three years than some people do in a lifetime. I couldn't get close to you until now—you didn't know me, and you wouldn't accept anything from your family either. Now you know me, you know who I am, what I want, that I love you more than life itself, and that I want you to be my wife. Only you will choose among all these things. And I will submit to your choice."

A loud explosion shattered the quiet of the evening. Gunfire echoed in the distance. Dante quickly scooped me up in his arms and ran with me through the corridors toward the end of a hallway. Once there, he pressed a panel, opening a concealed door that led into a small corridor with a descending metal staircase. At the bottom was another reinforced steel door leading into a massive garage filled with spectacular cars.

The garage housed an impressive collection of supercars that most people only ever see in magazines. From limited-edition Lamborghinis and Paganis to classic collector's pieces from Rolls-Royce and Aston Martin, the space emanated a blinding opulence. It was the private sanctuary of a man for whom money was no object, but merely a way to own the impossible. A horsepower paradise, where every automobile bore an exclusive signature... An impressive fleet of multi-million-dollar hypercars, lined up like sculptures of fiberglass and steel: limited editions like the Bugatti Chiron, Pagani Huayra, Koenigsegg, McLaren P1, Ferrari LaFerrari, and Lamborghini Sián, alongside classic, elegant luxury like the Rolls-Royce Phantom, Bentley Mulsanne, and Aston Martin DBS.

He quickly placed me inside a car of his choice, and we sped off. Once past the garage gates, we drove smoothly along the road as if we were ordinary people. In the distance, gunshots could still be heard.

"Stay calm. I have two perimeter reinforced walls. They are still at the first wall. We are fine. Where do you want to go now? Now that you are awake, you can decide. I have many safe locations we can go to. Or, just as safely, we can go to your house—though we will certainly have another visit there."

"We're going to my house. My father and brothers are waiting for us!"

Stay tuned! I'll be back in 3 days. Writing with love, just for you!