Preview
11 years ago
The air was thick with tension in a shadowy alleyway in Varenna, Italy. A 24-year-old man in a tailored suit stood surrounded by a dozen men clad in black. Their eyes scanned the darkness, but it was too late.
“Damien,” came a low, gravelly voice, edged with both anger and regret. “We were too late.” Marco’s clenched jaw reflected his frustration. “Take him back to the base.”
Marco Salvatore, the newly appointed leader of Italy’s most feared mafia, exuded a menacing authority. Dressed in a dark brown suit that matched the weight of his responsibilities, he walked back to his black-tinted SUV, his gang flanking him like shadows. His mere presence could make the bravest shudder.
As he settled into the backseat, Marco’s voice was sharp and decisive. “Damien, call Dad.”
Within seconds, a phone was handed to him. Marco held it tightly, his knuckles whitening as he spoke. “Dad... we were too late. Niccolò is dead. It was a trap.”
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The cries still haunt me. A woman, barely in her 30s, her wails cutting through the silence. Beside her, a boy-no older than ten-stared up at me with the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that seemed to scream for justice.
“I’m sorry, kid,” I whispered to myself. “I should’ve been there sooner.”
“Damien,” I barked, my tone commanding, though my heart felt heavy. “Get them out of here. Settle them in Spain. Make sure the family has everything they need until the boy graduates. After that... he’s on his own.”
Damien nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Every night since has been a war inside my head. Sleep never comes easy-not when guilt has its claws in you. Two or three hours a night, if I’m lucky. But my father trusted me to lead the Salvatore gang, to carry the weight of our name. I can’t let him down.
And yet, it’s not duty that keeps me going. It’s those blue eyes. They haunt me. They fuel me. They remind me that I can’t stop until justice is served.
Because Niccolò’s death wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning.
.
.
.
In the world of power and betrayal, one rule stands above all-never leave a debt unpaid. And I owe those blue eyes justice.
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