Porsche Kittisawat or Deangelo Cassano groaned as the bright rays of sunlight shone on his face and heard the sounds of someone knocking on his door.
'Who the hell is knocking on his door so early in the bloody morning.'
Deangelo yawned loudly as he stretched his numb and sore muscles and wore his fluffy baby blue slippers, the ends of his champagne gold silk pyjamas brushing against his ankles as he made his way to the door. The door reveals his right-hand man slash best friend, Lorenzo.
"Sorry, buddy but Mr Vincenzo is asking you to join him for breakfast." Lorenzo sent him a sympathetic look as he watched the man grumpily mumble something incoherent but nodded at him, "Nah it's fine Zo, tell him I will be down in 20 minutes." The man nodded before patting his shoulder and making his way out.
As he got ready, a notification popped out on his phone. Deangelo cursed under his breath, he almost forgot about today.
It was Fabio Cassano's funeral today.
~•~•~•~•~•~
Deangelo made his way down the stairs in his Booralro black suit underneath his black half-unbuttoned shirt.
"I was wondering when will you show up my dear piccolo fratello." Vincenzo was sitting on his seat in his own Booralro black suit, elegantly sipping on his espresso while reading off his tablet in his other hand. He sends a smirk toward Deangelo's way.
The latter rolls his eyes as he took his seat opposite his brother "Fuck off Hyung." Vincenzo chuckle under his breath as he ordered the servants to serve Deangelo's breakfast.
The two brothers ate in silence, neither of them knowing how to start the conversation until Deangelo decides to break the silence as he clears his throat.
"It's Papa's funeral today..." he says while taking a bite of his Frittata.