Chapter 190 – Raffaele POV
Even after more than twenty years of doing this, these events bore me to death.
I watch from my place near the head of the room as people pour in, milling about, plastic smiles, fake compliments.
My fiftieth birthday.
Another year, another party, another excuse for allies, rivals, and opportunists to crowd into one room, dressed to impress, lips ready to flatter or scheme.
It's always the same: the sycophants, the veiled threats, the inevitable assassination attempt that no doubt someone is already planning.
I'm tired.
Tired of the games. The monotony.
Life at the top... after a while, everything starts to look the same.
I sip from my glass, barely tasting the aged scotch. My eyes drift lazily across the crowd. Politicians. Crime lords. Business moguls. Hired beauties on the arms of old men. It's like a stage play on repeat—year after year, the same faces, the same empty laughter.
And then—
I blink.
