Chapter 4 - The Gathering at the Amalfi Estate
Dawn was just beginning to streak the sky with pale violet and grey as my car crested the final hill overlooking the Amalfi estate. The wrought-iron gates swung open automatically as Matteo's guards recognized my vehicle.
Inside the grand villa, the lights were still blazing. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the main parlor, I could see shadows moving. Salvo was enjoying a late-night drink, laughing loudly with three of his closest lieutenants, completely unaware that his world was about to collapse.
I left Elena and Nora safely in the guest quarters with two of my most trusted bodyguards, assuring them they were untouchable. Then, I walked through the heavy double doors of the front entrance.
The sound of my footsteps echoing through the marble foyer silenced the laughter in the parlor instantly.
Salvo stepped out into the hallway, a crystal glass of whiskey in his hand, a smug grin plastered across his face. "Nicolo? Back so soon? I thought the Neapolitans were keeping you in Venice for—"
He stopped. The glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the marble floor, amber liquid splashing across his Italian leather shoes.
Behind him, Matteo stepped out from the shadows, flanked by six heavily armed men who blocked every exit.
"Salvo," I said, walking slowly toward him, my hands resting calmly in my pockets. "You look surprised to see me."
"Nico—boss—I can explain," Salvo stammered, color draining entirely from his face as he took a step back. "The deal... did something go wrong with the Council?"
"The deal is dead," I replied quietly, stopping just an arm's length away from him. "And so is your career."
"I didn't do anything!" Salvo shouted, his voice cracking with panic as his lieutenants began to shift uneasily, realizing they were trapped. "Ask anyone! I've been here running the house while you were playing businessman in the north!"
I didn't raise my voice. I simply pulled the small black phone from my pocket—the one with no contacts, no apps—and tossed it onto the table beside him.
"A four-year-old child has more honor and intelligence than you, Salvo," I said, my gaze locking onto his terrified eyes. "You thought you could frame a mother, steal my family's legacy, and slip away into the night while I was distracted by two hundred million euros?"
Salvo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He dropped heavily to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached out to grab my trouser leg.
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"Please, Nico... please! Give me another chance! I was just—I needed the money, it was only temporary—"
I stepped back, letting his hands grasp nothing but empty air.
