25 : Lucifer's POV
"Stephano," I greeted him with a grin. I haven't seen him in awhile. When we were younger he was like a brother to me, that is until I left Italy and came to America.
"Lucifer," He returned my greeting and sat down on the plush chair in front of my desk. "I'm going to be here in America for a while, so I decided to stop by," he answered my unasked question.
Stephano was always more cruel than I. Ruthlessness bonded him into a man. He never had a family to call, and he never had a true meaning of home. That was until we were both introduced to the mafia by my father.
Sadanto had always admired Stephano. He saw the fire in his eyes before he got the chance to see mine. I'm not going to decieve, he is the true meaning of an italian mafia, never once showed any compass
