191 – Renzo Jr. POV
I've never seen my father like this.
Not in front of anyone.
Not even the Don.
He's... shut down. Visibly. Like the air's been knocked out of him.
And this woman—who is she?
She looks... ordinary at first glance. Tall, slim, in a sleek suit. No guards, no pomp. No announcement. She just walked in.
But Father—he's stiff. Palms damp. Barely able to meet her eyes. I can feel the tension rolling off him.
"Sister," she said. His sister?
Since when did Father have a sister?
No one ever speaks of it. The old men—the ones who sit at the big tables, who run this world with quiet whispers and knives in their sleeves—they never speak of it either.
But I've heard things.
Whispers.
That there's a certain town in Europe—a small one, pretty, quiet. And that no matter who you are—Cartel, Castellano, Kingpin—you do not go near it.
You will die.
