The sound of birds chirping and the wind whistling through the trees infiltrated the glass surface of the windows. Carried across the curtain's fabric; the music echoing through the room along with the rhythmic breathing of the sole inhabitant.

The students clambered about as they all gathered their belongings, getting ready to leave and head off to their respective classes. Rosalie placed her notebook and pouch into her bag before someone nudged her shoulder from behind. Stumbling, she lightly bumped into the desk before looking back at her best friend, Maria.

The cloudy night brought a twilight feel long before the sun was ready to set. The colors of the forest become less bright as if one is viewing them through dark glasses. The breeze has dampness to it that wasn't there a short while ago; it's cooler and fresher too. Arcangelo didn't have to be somewhere yet, giving him plenty of time to daydream and admire the heavens above, brilliant shafts of light bolting through the ever-changing cloud layer.

It was rather early in the morning with Rosalie sound asleep, a book placed beside her pillow. She had been so engrossed in the novel--a book she had borrowed from one of the numerous bookshelves in the house--and fell asleep while reading.

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.