Silent Scars

CHAPTER 94

The elevator doors slid open with a soft mechanical hiss.

Silvano stepped out.

Not a wrinkle on his coat. Dark grey, fitted perfectly to his lean frame, stitched at the cuffs with a subtle silver thread, expensive but quiet. His black gloves were folded neatly in his left hand. His hair, steel grey, combed back with surgical precision glinted under the ceiling lights. Not a strand out of place.

The floor was silent except for the soft tap of his polished shoes across the marble.

He reached the tall double doors of Leonardo’s office and paused.

Then knocked. Twice. Sharp. Measured.

From inside, Leonardo’s voice answered, calm and direct.

"Come in."

Silvano opened the door and stepped in without hesitation.

Leonardo sat behind his desk, the city stretching wide behind him through the floor to ceiling windows. His jacket was off, sleeves rolled once at the forearms, veins taut beneath pale skin. A stack of reports lay open in front of him, untouched.

His eyes met Silvano’s as the door shut.

"Naples went well?"

Leonardo asked.

Silvano’s voice was as calm and gravelly as ever.

"Naples is clean. Dockyard emptied, records burned, surveillance wiped. No ties left behind."

Leonardo’s gaze stayed fixed.

"And our men?"

"Accounted for. No witnesses. No leaks."

He sat down across from Leonardo with practiced ease, folding one leg over the other like he belonged in that room. Like he'd never left.

The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Leonardo didn’t sit. He watched. Studied.

Silvano reached into his coat, pulled out a folded document, and slid it across the desk.

"Shipping manifest."

He said.

"Final batch. Everything matches."

Leonardo didn’t reach for it. He looked down at it, then back up.

"Good."

A beat passed.

"You didn’t call me when it was done.”

"I was already en route. Thought I’d brief you in person."

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed.

"That's unlike you."

Silvano gave a small shrug.

"Maybe I wanted to see how bad things were here myself."

Leonardo said nothing.

Silvano's gaze lingered on Leonardo’s expression.

Then, he asked voice smooth, neutral:

"How is the girl doing?"

Leonardo didn’t answer right away.

He picked up the manifest and opened it, not to read. His eyes scanned lines without meaning.

Still not looking up, he said quietly,

"You’re well informed."

Silvano didn’t flinch. He simply tilted his head, almost amused.

"Even if you don’t inform me, I have my ways."