Destinied Hearts

Part 17

Author's POV

The low sun cast great long shadows over the lawns of the Albano estate. The interior of the mansion had lightened up considerably. Milana had grown easier now, her initial fear and circumspection yielding to a hesitant sense of belongingness. The Albano family, in their turn, had begun to take it in stride that she was there, though still wary: a dangerous world loomed large.

Leo followed her closely, watching as she interacted with the staff and then sometimes joined them for meals. Her genuine nature and the consistent retelling of the story had even paved his way past initial skepticism. As much as he tried to be nonchalant and detached, he couldn't ignore her strength and buoyancy. Tonight, though, was not for reflection or doubts. Tonight was for action.

Leo had spent the past week preparing, researching, and simply waiting. Matteo and Antonio had been confined to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city; no one knew where, not even the inner circle. Leo had kept them alive only for one reason: to hear him tell the truth. He had hoped that time and isolation would break their spirits, but it was now time to take it up a notch.
When the clock approached eight, Leo called for a meeting. Luca was already in the study, leaning on the edge of the large oak desk, with his arms crossed, reviewing the latest reports.

Leo had also invited Salvatore and Adriano, two of his most trusted Capos. Salvatore, known as the "Master of Information Extraction," was very successful in getting people to talk, whereas Adriano was the muscle, the enforcer who made sure that Salvatore's tactics were effective.

Rocco ushered the two men into his study and gave a nod to Leo before leaving out to take charge of the perimeter. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the desk lamp and the faint glow of the fireplace.

"Salvatore, Adriano," Leo said to the two men with a firm handshake. "Thanks so much for coming on such short notice."

"Anything for the family," said Salvatore, smooth as silk as he looked at Joe, his eyes sharp and calculating. A lean man with a quick mind, he seemed to hold himself together like a limpet in the most charged of moments. Adriano was broad-shouldered and powerful, silently reminding one of the strength of the Albano family.

Leo wasn't one for beating around the bush. "We've got Matteo and Antonio held for a week now, and we're no closer to cracking this. Matteo's been pretty cooperative, but he hasn't given us anything concrete. Antonio's been solidly uncooperative, refusing to say even a word. I want you to crack him." Salvatore nodded, expression unreadable. "What's our angle?
We must know how Antonio is connected to the Spanish and Italian mafias," Luca added. "He's been a mum, but we've learned that there is always truth beyond what someone says. He's got something locked away, and it is up to us to discover it."

Leo inclined forward, his eyes piercing. "Antonio does not want to believe that he's in league with the Spanish mafia, but we know that something exists there. We just need to give in and dig through his defenses.".

Salvatore curled his lips into a faint smile. "Leave it to me, I get them all talking eventually."
Adriano cracked his knuckles, a menacing grin spreading across his face. "And if he doesn't, we'll make sure he wishes he had."

The four of them formed their plan, then left the mansion and headed to the warehouse. It was a nondescript building, really-an old industrial facility repurposed for the family's less-than-legal activities. It was dimly lit inside, a thick scent of sweat and fear hanging heavy in the air. Matteo and Antonio were kept in separate rooms, each outfitted with nothing but a metal chair and a single hanging light bulb that cast its harsh shadows across faces.

First, Salvatore went to Antonio's room. The door groaned and swung open onto a stooping figure slumped in a chair, his hands tied behind him. He was bruised and battered, proof of the "interrogations" he had already been subjected to. Yet there was still that light in his eyes, that spark of defiance that seemed to refuse to break under the pressure.