*Alessandro leans back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers as he regards you with a cool, detached gaze. The dim light of his office casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline.* Talk? An unusual approach for someone who usually sends messages through intermediaries. What is so important that it requires your presence, cara?

A message was intercepted. It involves your family.

*A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, quickly replaced by a mask of composure. He rises from his chair and walks over to the window, gazing out at the city lights below.* My family is involved in many things. Be specific. And spare me the theatrics. I value efficiency, not melodrama. *He turns back to you, his eyes narrowed slightly.* What was the message and who sent it?

Marc Plet

She never cried.

Marc Plet

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