Matteo, Leonardo, and Alessandro, the powerful owners of De Angeli Enterprises, are in their early thirties and have built a fearsome reputation worldwide. Known for their ruthlessness and ambition, these men have amassed wealth and influence by tak...
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Alessandro could feel the rage coursing through him, hot and unrelenting, like molten lava threatening to erupt. It burned beneath his skin, made his chest tight, made the room feel smaller, suffocating. His nails bit into his palms, the sting grounding him just enough to keep the fury from spilling over. But it wasn't enough. Not when Noah was sitting there, seperated by a one way mirror wall, so calm, so damn smug, the dim light casting cruel shadows over his face.
Noah leaned back in his chair, his posture dripping with arrogance, as if he held the entire world in his hands. The twist of his lips, the casual way he spoke, made Alessandro's stomach churn.
"You can tell them she's dead," Noah said, his voice carrying that thick accent Alessandro had grown to hate. He spoke slowly, lazily, like he was enjoying every second of the torment he was delivering. With a flick of his wrist, he slid a piece of paper across the table. The sound it made against the wood was deafening in the tense silence.
Alessandro stared at the paper, his pulse pounding in his ears as Noah continued, his voice like a blade slicing through the air. "They're a few days too late. This is the location where her body is."
The words hit Alessandro harder than any physical blow ever could. His world tilted, the edges of his vision darkening as the weight of Noah's statement settled over him. His heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest, replaced by a cold, empty void that threatened to swallow him whole.
Beside him, Matteo trembled, his entire body taut with barely restrained fury. Alessandro didn't even need to look to know what Matteo was thinking—to feel the same murderous energy radiating off him. Matteo's breath was sharp and shallow, his fingers twitching as if ready to grab the nearest weapon and end Noah where he sat.
Leonardo was no better. Alessandro could feel the tension vibrating through him, the barely controlled rage that was coiled so tightly it felt like a ticking time bomb. When Leonardo took a step forward, Alessandro's hand shot out instinctively, planting firmly against his chest.
"Not yet," Alessandro muttered under his breath, his voice low and strained. It wasn't a plea—it was an order.
Leonardo's jaw clenched so tightly Alessandro thought he might crack his teeth. His eyes were wild, blazing with fury and pain, but he didn't move further. He didn't have to. The energy in the room was explosive, suffocating, teetering on the edge of violence.
Alessandro's focus shifted back to Noah, his grip on his own control slipping with every passing second. The man had the audacity to smile, as if he'd already won, as if his words had gutted them so thoroughly there was no fight left to give.
But Noah didn't know them.
He didn't know Alessandro.
Xander's voice was steady when he finally spoke, but it was laced with venom, every word a promise. "If you're lying—if this is a game to you—you'll wish you were never born."
