KAEL
I sat alone in a private suite, a glass of untouched whiskey sweating on the table beside me. Dim lights. Dead silence. The kind of quiet that forced thoughts to the surface—the kind I didn't want.
Her laugh echoed In the back of my skull, soft and uninvited.
I shut it down.
Now wasn't the time for ghosts in silk blouses and sharp tongues.
The door clicked once before it opened. Niko stepped in, composed as always, hands behind his back where they belonged. He knew better than to bring chaos into my space. His eyes met mine briefly—a silent nod—before he moved to stand at a respectful distance.
"Luca Bellandi's been active," he said. "Three new properties under shell accounts. Two are legit fronts—clubs. One's a house outside Florence. Likely private dealings."
I didn't respond. I leaned back in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, watching him. Letting him sweat under the weight of my silence.
