Chapter 6 - The Return
The room fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.
Alessandro Vitale stood in the doorway, a terrifying silhouette framed by the hallway lights.
He wasn't wearing his tailored suit jacket anymore.
His white shirt was speckled with crimson, and his knuckles were bruised and bloody.
In his right hand, he dragged the battered, semi-conscious body of Filippo Conti.
Valentina stopped dead in her tracks, the triumphant smile freezing, then melting off her face.
Don Moroni gasped, dropping his espresso cup, which shattered loudly on the marble floor.
Alessandro stepped fully into the room and hurled Filippo forward.
The traitor slid across the polished floor, coming to a halt directly at Valentina’s designer heels.
"You forgot something," Alessandro said, his voice quiet but carrying the force of a hurricane.
Valentina stumbled backward, her composure entirely shattered by the impossible sight before her.
"Alessandro," she stammered, her voice shaking violently.
"We... we thought you were delayed."
"I was," Alessandro replied, walking slowly toward the head of the table.
"A minor traffic issue."
He reached the end of the table and stared down at the chair Valentina had just vacated.
With a sudden, violent kick, he shattered the back of the mahogany chair into pieces.
The sound echoed like a gunshot, making half the men at the table flinch and cower.
"No one sits in my father’s chair," Alessandro roared, slamming his fist onto the table.
The ghosts slipped into the room behind him, four men dressed in tactical black, carrying suppressed submachine guns.
They fanned out, locking the doors and securing the perimeter in less than five seconds.
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The council members realized instantly that they were trapped in a cage with a wounded, enraged lion.
And the lion was hungry for blood.
