𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 - 𝟏𝟖+

CHAPTER FOUR

"Fuck, it's going to be another long day," I mumbled, took a step back, opened the door, and got seated.

"Please tell me we are going home first," Luca eyed me as he ignited the engine, and turned his head towards the road.

"Obviously," I rolled my eyes, pointing at my half-naked body.

"Good because you fucking stink."

"I really needed that information,"

Finally feeling slightly optimistic after days, I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes for a minute, gleeful that I was a step closer to getting my hands on the opportunist bastard running the show, already knowing that I would fucking cherish the cracking of his bones breaking, and the sizzling of his melting flesh.

I wasn't banished from heaven, but I liked to think I was no less than the devil himself.

I was undoubtedly the shadow that lurked in the night, the soul reaper for assholes like myself. I'd learned to survive by anticipating their moves, and they ended up six feet under by taking my demure about open war as weakness. I survived by anticipating their moves and they died by underestimating me.

Men like me were the darkness that the pretentious bastards like the politicians needed to blame when they indulged in their sinful fantasies. They gambled with the money of the people they were supposed to serve. They lusted for money and as long as their pockets kept overflowing with cash and jewels, they would turn a blind eye.

Heck, they would even sell their souls to the likes of me.

We were the shadows they condemned, the ears that missed no whisper, the eyes that saw all, and the tongues that were tied by an oath⁠— The Omerta.

Luca killed the engine of the car in the driveway of the mansion, and I opened the door, making my way inside in a hurry since I had to fit in a visit to the hospital before taking care of my undercover guests. The very fuckers serving the corrupt bastards who worked for me.

What made them think that they were above me? That they could walk over me?

After a quick shower, I made my way to the walk-in closet, and took my white shirt off the hanger, slipping it over my shoulders, leaving the shirt unbuttoned, I reached for my grey suit, following with my boxer briefs. Finishing dressing up, I stood in front of the floor-length mirror as I brushed my wet hair with my fingers. Picking up my phone from the nightstand on my way out, I made a mental note to give Florence shit about not paying attention. He was supposed to be the master of explosives, he couldn't afford mistakes like these that could very well cost him his life.

* * *

I walked towards the private wing strictly reserved for my family, my shoes tapping against the freshly cleaned, tiled floor of the hospital corridor. As I turned the corner, two of Alessandro's recruits nodded at me, moving away from the door, letting me in. Stepping inside the room, I closed the door behind me and turned to the multiple pairs of eyes on me. Florence was sitting up in the bed, a bandage wrapped around his head, and his left arm, and foot in a cast. Alexandra stayed at Florence's bedside, Roberto was conveniently sitting on a couch in the other corner, and Milan had only stopped pacing a second ago. I returned my eyes to Alexandra's bloodshot ones, already knowing it wasn't from crying, but fury instead. It wouldn't take a genius to know that the only thing on her mind right now was revenge.

"Renzo I don't want to sit back and manage Stelle. I don't care how dangerous it is, you know I can fucking handle it, but I'm not going to sit still and be pretty when I can kill the bastards doing this." She pointed at Florence's lying form, who only shook his head at Alex's outburst. Fucking hell, I couldn't deal with her tantrum with everything else on my plate. Her and Alessio's temper would be the death of me.