⌐╦─ CONSIGLIERE

The rain in Venice was different from the heavy storms of Chicago. It dripped quietly from the stone eaves of the family's private estate, bleeding into the dark canals outside and turning the ancient alleyways slick and reflective. Inside the private bedroom, the atmosphere was just as heavy.

Simone looked out the arched window at the dark, rippling water. As children, he and Serafina used to steal pieces of bread from the kitchen to throw to the ducks in these very canals. Now, those same waters felt cold, hiding secrets he wasn't sure he was ready to uncover.

A firm, rhythmic knock rattled the dark oak door.

Simone didn't answer immediately. He stood before a gold-rimmed mirror, running a hand through his hair and smoothing down his casual shirt. In their world, grief was a luxury they couldn't afford. A mafia boss could show rage, and he could show cruelty, but he could never show weakness—even when pacing the floors of his own home. He took a deep breath, fixing his posture and smoothing his features until his face was a mask of cold, unbothered steel. When he was certain he looked completely composed, he spoke.

"Come in," Simone called out, his voice smooth and steady.

The door swung open, and Mateo stepped into the room. As the syndicate's consigliere, Mateo was the brain of the operation. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, his expression entirely unreadable as he carried a thick leather folder filled with paperwork.

Mateo walked over to the desk, setting the heavy folder down onto the polished surface. "The transit routes through the port are backed up," Mateo began without greeting, getting straight to business. "We have three major shipping trades pending validation, and the local unions are getting restless. They smell blood in the water after the news from Chicago."

Simone walked over, looking down at the neat rows of numbers and signatures. "Let them rumble. We tighten the grip, we don't loosen it."

Mateo looked up, his sharp eyes locking onto Simone. "The family needs a head, Simone. The captains are asking questions. With your father gone and Serafina missing... they need to know who they are answering to. Are you ready to take over the empire?"

The mention of his sister's name hung in the air like a heavy mist. Simone stared at the documents, but his mind wasn't on the shipping routes. He looked at Mateo—the man who had grown up alongside them, who knew every secret they kept.

"Let me ask you something, Mateo," Simone said softly, leaning his hands against the edge of the desk. He looked directly into the consigliere's eyes. "What do you think? Honestly. Could Sera really have done it? Could she have killed papa?"

For a moment, the professional wall around Mateo seemed to flicker. He and Serafina had been close since childhood, running through these very same Venetian streets before the business had consumed their lives. Mateo took a slow breath, his posture remaining perfectly rigid.

"I have no answer to that question, Simone," Mateo replied, his voice flat and deliberate. "And honestly, my personal feelings are completely irrelevant. Reality is the only thing that matters now."

Simone kept his eyes fixed on him, searching for a crack in the armor.

"The reality is that your father is dead," Mateo continued, his tone unwavering. "Serafina is gone. And right now, as far as the law and the streets are concerned, you are the Mafia. You are the head of this family, and I will serve you. That is my duty."

Simone let out a quiet breath, nodding slowly. He understood exactly what Mateo was trying to convey without saying it out loud: there is no room to be emotional at a time like this.

Mourning his father or defending his sister wouldn't keep a bullet out of his head. Survival meant moving forward, cold and calculating.

"Get the captains in order," Simone ordered, his voice hardening. "Tell them the transition is seamless."

"Understood," Mateo said. He left the folder on the desk and turned toward the exit.

He walked briskly across the room, but as his hand touched the brass handle of the door, his movements stopped. He stood completely still, his back facing Simone, his shoulders tense. The professional, cold demeanor seemed to slip away for a brief, heavy second.

"Be careful, Simone," Mateo said quietly, his voice dropping an octave as he stared at the wood of the door. "Everyone is out to get you right now. They want to end this family, piece by piece. If they think you're weak, they will bury you next to your father. And if they find Serafina... they won't even give her the chance to speak."

Without turning around to see Simone's reaction, Mateo pulled the door open and stepped out into the corridor, leaving Simone alone with the quiet hum of the Venetian rain.

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