Garden of Roses ✔️

Chapter 3

Dante

         "Don, it's been too long. I don't think they're coming back. We should do something," Carlo says from behind me. I turn around to face him while holding a cup of strong black coffee in one hand and the other one tucked in the pocket of my black dress pants.

My two Dobermans, Zeus and Adonis sit on each of my sides, not paying any attention to Carlo. They are pretty comfortable with people who live in the house. Although, if he was someone unfamiliar coming behind my back like that, they would already be ripping him to shreds.

Carlo is about my height, maybe a few centimeters shorter, and now he has his usual frown on his face. In combination with his black hair and deep-set ocean-blue eyes, I must admit he looks intimidating. Not to me of course, but to a person who didn't know him and wasn't his boss, he would sure look scary.

"I know, I'm working on it," I say as I turn back to face the view of Tuscan valleys from my bedroom balcony and take the first sip of my morning coffee.

I expect to hear Carlo's footsteps distancing behind me, but judging by the complete silence, I would say he's still standing behind me.

"Anything else?" I ask, not even turning around this time.

"I just wanted to see what you were thinking. What are you going to do?"

"What I have to do. Deal with the problem myself," I respond, ending our little conversation while gently petting the heads of my dogs. Now I hear him turn around on his heel and slowly start walking away. "Oh and Carlo, please tell Camilla I want to see her."

"Right now, boss?"

"Yes, now. We're going to have breakfast on the terrace," I reply, and Carlo leaves the room without another word.

A week ago I sent several of my men to find the so-called Regina del Sangue. Whoever she is, she killed some of my people and I wanted to know why. Well, to be honest, they were my father's people and I didn't care for them much. When he passed and I took his place, they became my people. It was the matter of principle. Who the fuck does this woman think she is? Nobody disrespects me like that and stays alive. The men I sent after her never came back and couldn't be contacted, which tells me she probably killed them too. Last I heard from them, they were somewhere near Venice. They said that they were getting close but still haven't found her. I guess if I wanted to get the job done I just had to do it myself.

I hear a soft knock on the glass door that separates the balcony from the inside of the house. A quiet woman's voice reaches me. "Scusa signor, your breakfast is served."

"I'll be right there, thank you." I still don't turn away from my view. I stand there for a couple more moments before I get inside and make my way to the back terrace.

When I get there, Camilla is already sitting at the big wooden table with her legs crossed and a glass of mimosa in her hand. She ticks on the glass nervously with her perfect long nail, not looking very amused. "You know, I don't appreciate being summoned like this, little brother," she says, lifting her head to look at me before I even sit down.

"I know, sorry sis. I needed to talk to you and didn't have time to look for you in this massive goddamn house. I told you it's too big." I pour myself another coffee and put some pastries on my plate. The word sorry feels weird coming out of my mouth. I'm not usually the one apologizing. Other people are the ones who apologize to me if they disobey me, or God forbid, disrespect me in any way. Obviously, my sister is an exception. She's probably the only person in this world who I'd let speak to me this way.