Silent love

Chapter 60

On the previous chapter...

He paused, then added quietly, "There's a vial of his blood in your room already proof the deal is sealed. It's symbolic. It binds you both".

Binds us both.

The words echoed in my head like a chain tightening around my chest. How many times had this happened before I even took my first step? A contract signed before I was born, a life planned without my voice, my choice. And now this another forced tie, another invisible leash.

I barely heard him after that. My mind was racing too fast. Jacques had wanted to tell me something earlier days ago, just one thing, and it was cryptic: father is coming. But he knew more than he said.

Immanuel was here because he knew too.

Because they all knew.

Seraphina helped me pack last night. We think there's more going on. We're not sure what exactly, but it's bad.

Everyone knew. Everyone but me.

A cold knot twisted in my stomach.

The pieces were clicking into place, and I was the last to realize I was already trapped in a game I hadn't even seen starting.

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Location: Bari, Southern Italy - Estate of the Vescari Family

The estate smelled of citrus and stone, built on sun-bleached hills that rolled down to the sea. A beautiful place for liars.

Silvio stepped out of the black car first.

His suit was charcoal, crisp despite the heat, and he didn't glance at the guards lining the courtyard. They weren't a threat. They were a test.

Behind him, Seraphina emerged, the hem of her black coat catching the breeze like smoke. Fiorenzo followed last young, silent, but sharp enough that the older men at the gates didn't meet his eyes.

The Mancini mafia had arrived.

And the air shifted like thunder was about to roll in.

Inside the villa, the Vescari family had prepared a table too wide, too decorative. A performance.

It didn't work.

Silvio sat before they were invited to. Seraphina took the seat beside him. Fiorenzo remained standing.

Opposite them, Niccolò Vescari, the old patriarch, adjusted his cufflinks with too much care. His sons, two thick-necked men in silk shirts, watched the Mancini's and Silvio like prey trying to remember which direction to run.

"We appreciate you coming all this way". Niccolò began, voice smooth.

Silvio cut him off.

"You're late on the shipments".

A pause.

"And your last transfer came short".

The silence after was heavier than stone.

Niccolò offered a faint smile. "Small delays. These things happen. The border is-".
"Not your concern". Seraphina interrupted. Her voice was soft, polite even, but carried the weight of a loaded gun.

Niccolò's youngest son shifted in his seat. Fiorenzo looked at him one slow glance and the boy looked down.

"We've had issues". The older son said. "Logistics. French border patrol has increased. There's pressure from-".