Fifteen years later.
Fabian Di Neri stood at the edge of a rooftop, the night wind teasing the hem of his black coat like an invisible hand trying to pull him back. Below him, Genoa sprawled in a mosaic of glimmering lights, tangled streets, and shadows that whispered secrets no daylight could erase.
The city was alive — breathing, roaring, bleeding — and Fabian had long since learned to dance with its madness.Up here, the chaos sounded like music.Down there, it was survival.
His phone buzzed against his side. He ignored it. He didn't need to look. Another deal needing a signature stained in blood. Another enemy daring to test the name Di Neri. Another soul ready to vanish into the cracks of the earth.
Fifteen years had carved him into something the world had learned to fear — a man who moved like a myth, spoke like a storm, and left behind silence where there should have been screams.
The silence of a boy who once cried beside his mother's deathbed, a boy who had since buried not only his grief, but the very part of him capable of mourning.
"Boss," came a voice behind him, cutting through the cold night air.
Fabian didn't turn. His voice was low, calm. Dangerous."Speak."
"We found him. The one who leaked the cargo route to the Montaldo family."
A beat of silence. The city exhaled below them.
"Alive?" Fabian asked.
"For now."
"Good," he said, finally shifting his weight and turning away from the abyss. "Bring him to the courtyard. Make sure he sees the fire before he dies."
"Yes, Boss."
The man retreated, his shoes tapping a sharp rhythm against the marble floor, leaving Fabian alone with the night once more. He pulled a cigarette from the inside of his coat, lighting it with a flick of silver. The flame kissed the tip briefly before dying into smoke.
He didn't smoke for pleasure.He smoked for memory — for the things he could no longer remember without it hurting.
When he re-entered the rooftop lounge, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. Crystal chandeliers refracted the soft light into a thousand illusions. Laughter floated in the air — fake, hollow, like brittle glass ready to shatter.
Two women waited near the private bar, draped in silks that cost more than most men earned in a year. They smiled at him — practiced smiles, the kind that never reached the eyes. He nodded out of habit, accepting the glass of red wine offered to him. He didn't drink it. He hadn't tasted alcohol in years — not since he realized he could never afford even a second of lost control.
He wasn't here to enjoy the party.He was here because ruling an empire meant never leaving the throne unattended.
He moved through the crowd with the fluidity of a predator among prey, his black suit tailored to perfection, every step a statement: I own this room, even if I never asked to.
And then, she appeared.
Alberta Contadino.
She walked into the lounge as if she'd been born from fire and vengeance, her heels clicking against the marble like war drums announcing her arrival.
She was elegance forged into armor — a vision draped in a crimson dress that hugged her form like second skin, her hair pinned back in a style both simple and lethal. But it was her eyes that stopped him — stormy, defiant, alive.
For the first time in what felt like years, Fabian felt the ghost of something stir in his chest.Not recognition — not yet.But something deeper.Something dangerous.
Alberta's voice sliced through the thick perfume of false pretense in the room.
"I thought mafia kings wore tuxedos to business meetings," she said, arching a delicate brow. "Or is that just in movies?"
Fabian's lips curved into a smirk — the first real expression he allowed himself that night."I save my tuxedo for funerals," he said, voice low, carrying the promise of steel beneath velvet.
She stepped closer, the scent of jasmine and danger following her."And here I thought this was a merger meeting," she replied smoothly.
"It is," Fabian said, studying her with the precision of a man who'd been betrayed enough to recognize strength disguised as beauty."And if things go wrong," he added, "we'll need one."
Their words danced like blades, thinly veiled in civility. Their smiles were wolves' grins, daring the other to blink first.Beneath it all — a spark.A flicker of something neither wanted to name.
Business.
That's how it started.
But destiny, as always, had its own bloody plans.
****
The meeting was held behind closed doors — a gathering of men who smiled with knives hidden beneath their suits and women who whispered threats through champagne kisses.
Alberta took her seat opposite Fabian, a folder of documents between them.The terms of the deal were simple:The Contadino family would merge their legitimate businesses — hotels, shipping companies, offshore banks — with the Di Neri empire. In exchange, protection. Territory. And power consolidated into a force that even the authorities couldn't dream of touching.
"Sign here," Alberta said, sliding the document toward him.
Fabian didn't move.
"Trust," he said, voice a low rumble, "is earned. Not written on paper."
Alberta leaned back, crossing one elegant leg over the other."And yet," she said, lips curving into a dangerous smile, "you called this meeting."
Fabian smiled thinly. "I didn't say I wasn't willing. Just careful."
She laughed — a sound rich and full of life, a contrast so sharp to the sterile world they inhabited that it almost made him flinch.
"Good," she said. "Careful men live longer."
Fabian leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. For the first time in the conversation, he let the weight of his gaze fall fully on her — the kind of look that could break men twice his size.
"Or," he said softly, "they die slower."
A hush fell over the room.
Only Alberta held his gaze without flinching.
****
The deal was signed.
The alliance was made.
But as Alberta Contadino walked out of that room, Fabian knew he hadn't just signed a business contract.He'd invited chaos into his kingdom.And deep down, some broken part of him welcomed it.
Later that night, Fabian stood alone again, overlooking the city that he ruled but never truly belonged to.
He thought of Alberta — the way she walked, the way she looked at him like she saw through the armor, through the legend, straight into the boy who once cried for his mother.
And for the first time in years, he felt the faintest crack in his walls.
Dangerous, he thought. She's dangerous.
But then again, so was he.
He lit another cigarette, letting the smoke curl around him like a shroud.
The world below burned with greed, betrayal, ambition — and somewhere among the ashes, a new game had begun.
A game of loyalty.
Of survival.
And maybe — just maybe — of redemption.
Because somewhere deep inside Fabian Di Neri, buried beneath layers of scars and silence, something old stirred.
Something that remembered how to hope.
Even if he didn't know it yet.