The Don's Young Love (The Don's of Italy Saga Book 1) Age Gap Romance

Episode 16: Shadows of Empire: The Art of War

Dominic's POV

I lean against my truck, gazing up at the steps leading to my house. The person's face peering down at me seems vaguely familiar. Orlando and Marco came to join me, eager to discover the identity of the mystery visitor. We quietly walked up the mansion steps and it was really a blast from my past. I recognized Orsino Corsetti, a former comrade from my days in Italy when my father held power as the don. His family was second only to ours in terms of fear and influence.

We exchanged looks of mutual recognition and apprehension. Orsino had not changed much; the years had been kind to his sharp features and dark eyes that still held a touch of inscrutable danger. His hair had thinned a touch, giving him a more distinguished air, though the silver strands did nothing to soften the hard set of his jaw. As we reached the top step, he extended a hand not in greeting but with an envelope, cream-colored and unassuming. Though it was dark out, and late it still had to be a real reason he was here.

For Orsino to come out of hiding from his villa in Italy, something had to be seriously going on in the underworld of Mafia life. "Dom," he began with a voice that was as smooth as it was cold, "You crazy motherfucker. I wish this was a social call, but you know I don't travel for pleasantries. We have somethings we must talk about."

I wondered why would he had come all this way just to have something for us to talk about. "Oh is that right. Well follow me inside the house." I replied, motioning everyone to follow me inside the house.

As we filed into the grand foyer, the tension was palpable. Orlando and Marco walked behind me like my guardian angels, their eyes never leaving Orsino's figure. The marble floor echoed our steps as we moved to the study, a room reeking of old money and older secrets. Once inside, I gestured towards the leather chairs positioned strategically around the mahogany desk that served as the command center for all our family's operations.

The dim light from the antique lamp cast shadows that danced on the walls, each telling their own story of the silent battles and negotiations that had taken place within these walls. Glancing at the time, I saw it was already 1am. It was a late hour, but I knew whatever he had to say must be crucial. Orsino took a seat, his body language betraying no discomfort or anxiety. In contrast, my men remained standing, a human bulldozer between me and potential threat.

I settled into the chair across from Orsino, the late hour sharpening my focus under his formidable presence. "Let's get straight to the point," I said, pouring us bourbon from the crystal decanter. "What urgent matter drags your ass out of Italy to my doorstep?"

Orsino took the glass, his movements measured. He contemplated before speaking, his voice a blend of ice and steel. "It's about the Montanari family. They're entangled with the Garibaldi's in an art forgery scheme, using the 'Accademia Belle Arti Fiorentina' as their front." A sip of bourbon punctuated his words. His expression held a flicker of irritation, quickly masked. "They're overstepping, affecting my Florence gallery's profits with their fake art. It's time we acted."

I leaned back, the bourbon swirling in my glass. The Montanaris were known for bold moves, but this was a direct challenge to our power balance. "And your plan?" I asked, each word weighed for impact. "Direct conflict isn't our way. We prefer subtlety and shadows."

Orsino's smile was faint but knowing. "We need to take decisive action against Luciano Montanari, his wife Isabella, and their daughter Cadenza." His tone was resolute, his expression hardened. I sensed the brewing storm; an open war with the Montanaris could unleash chaos we might not be able to control.

Silence hung in the air, thick with the gravity of his proposal. "An all-out war, Orsino? That's a dangerous game," I said cautiously, the bourbon suddenly tasting bitter. "There are other ways to dismantle an empire without drawing blood."

Orsino nodded slowly, his eyes darkening. "Indeed, but sometimes, to protect what's ours, we must strike at the heart. I trust you'll consider the options carefully." He stood, leaving the glass half-empty, a silent testament to the weight of our conversation.

As he left, the shadows of the night seemed to close in, whispering of the impending storm. I knew then that our world was on the cusp of a seismic shift, one that could either solidify our reign or shatter it completely.

Dear Readers,

Thank you for embarking on this riveting journey with us in "Shadows of Empire: The Art of War." Your engagement and support are what make storytelling so powerful and fulfilling. In this latest installment, we delve deeper into a world where power, art, and loyalty intertwine in a dangerous dance.

As the stakes rise, so do the complexities of our characters' choices. I hope you find yourself as captivated by the unfolding drama as I am in weaving it.

Warm regards,

Zapphire