The hum of the private jet fades as I step onto the familiar land—land that once belonged to me, land that I was forced to leave behind.
Alessandro
Seven years, brother...( I mumble, swirling the wine in my glass before setting it down.)
The house stands just as it was, towering and untouched by time. But I am not the same. I am no longer the boy who was sent away. I am stronger, sharper—more powerful than anyone.
As I walk through the grand iron gates, silence hangs in the air like a warning. The guards stand stiff, watching but not daring to move. They know who I am. They know why I’m here.
Adriano
"My son."
His voice is warm, but I barely register it.
Because my gaze has already locked onto the figure standing behind him.
There he is. My brother.
We do not speak. We do not move.
We only stare.
His expression is unreadable—cold, controlled. But I see it. The slight shift in his jaw, the quiet tension in his stance. He wasn’t expecting me yet.
Good.
Lorenzo
You look well
Alessandro
I am , More than ever.
A silent war begins between us in that moment—one that words cannot touch.
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