Chapter 1

Alessio walked at a fast pace as he approached an underground dungeon. His jaw was tense, and his facial expression was stern. He stopped in front of a particular cell guarded by two armed men. They both greeted him, and he replied with a nod. One of them unlocked the cell door, and Alessio stepped inside.

A man was chained to the ceiling by his wrists, his body battered and drenched in sweat. His eyes and face were swollen from the relentless beatings he had endured. Shirtless, his bruised torso bore the evidence of his suffering. He looked weak, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Inside the room, two more armed men stood watch. One had his sleeves rolled up, his shirt unbuttoned halfway, his knuckles bruised, and his face glistening with sweat—clear signs that he had been the one delivering the punishment.

One of the men pulled out a stool for Alessio, and he took a seat. The prisoner's eyes widened in fear as he registered his presence.

He managed to choke out a faint plea. "Ple-a-se," he gasped, barely able to breathe.

Alessio studied him for a long moment before reaching into his inner suit pocket and pulling out a cigar. One of the men quickly stepped forward, flicking open a lighter and igniting the tip. Alessio took a slow, deliberate drag before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

"Now you beg me, Lorenzo? You steal from me, and now you beg?" Alessio let out a low chuckle.

Lorenzo struggled to speak, his voice weak and strained. "It was a mistake, Alessio. I'm sorry. Please, let me go. I have a family—a wife and a little boy. Please," he begged, his voice cracking as tears ran down his face.

Alessio took three long drags from his cigar before flicking it to the ground and crushing it beneath his shoe.

"You should have thought about that before you decided to steal from the family," he said coldly. "You know how I feel about stealing, Lorenzo. You stole from me and sold information to my rivals. Now, stealing? That I can forgive. But betrayal? That I cannot." His face hardened as he spoke the last words.

Lorenzo sobbed. "Alessio, please. I was desperate—I needed money. My son was sick."

"Stai zitto, cazzo!" Alessio snapped. "You know how much family means to me. If you had come to me and told me you needed money for your son, you damn well know I would have given it to you. Don't be a coward and use your son as an excuse for your greed."

Alessio rose from his stool and walked toward Lorenzo, his hands in his pockets, his gaze locked onto him.

"I hate rats, Lorenzo. You betrayed the family. And you know what happens when you betray family."

Lorenzo knew the consequence of his actions. There was no escaping it. Betrayal was the ultimate sin, and the price was death. But he wasn't ready to die. He had a family—people who needed him.

"Alessio, please! I'll do anything, just please!" Lorenzo sobbed, his body shaking with fear.

Alessio exhaled sharply, taking his hands out of his pockets and running them through his hair, a flicker of impatience crossing his face.

"I'll make this fast and painless. You won't have to suffer for long. Your family will be well taken care of after your demise. The true nature of your death won't be revealed to them. At least in their memories, you'll remain a hero, not a coward."

With that, he reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a pistol, and pointed it directly at Lorenzo's forehead.

"Bastards, all of you!" Lorenzo screamed in Italian, thrashing in his restraints.

"Che tu possa trovare riposo nell'aldilà," Alessio murmured. (May you find peace in the afterlife.)

A gunshot echoed through the dungeon.

Lorenzo's lifeless body hung limp from the ceiling, blood trickling down his face from the bullet wound in his forehead. Alessio pulled out a silk handkerchief and wiped the blood that had splattered onto his skin.

"Clean this up and have his body delivered to his family. Let them have the honor of burying him. Tell them he was killed on duty, and start a monthly payroll for his family," Alessio instructed, tucking his pistol back into his jacket before striding out of the cell.