The deafening growl of an engine sliced through the quiet night as Matteo’s black Lamborghini tore down the winding road toward the De Luca estate. The tires screeched violently against the stone driveway as he slammed the brakes, parking the sleek machine with practiced arrogance.
The headlights cut out.
The mansion loomed, golden lights casting shadows through towering pillars. Matteo climbed out, his dark suit crisp, his presence sharp and disruptive. His boots echoed as he stepped forward until a voice halted him.
“Did Alessandro know you’re here?” one of Alessandro’s men asked, stepping out of the shadows, hand resting near his sidearm.
Matteo’s lips curled. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes flashing with amusement and something darker.
“Alessandro sa che sei qui?” the man repea
