Renzo
Renzo Varoni walks under a rain that seems to try to wash away, without success, the blood of his surname. At 27 years old, the cold of the port does not even tickle him compared to the two years he spent locked up in cell 402 of San Judas. He did not fall because of the jewels of the "Crystal Ndrangheta" nor because of his old man's shady dealings, but because of an outburst of loyalty that almost cost him his life. But prison didn't tame him, wow; He sharpened it like a razor. Now, standing in front of the shipping containers his family has controlled for decades, Renzo watches the amber lights of the cranes. He knows that "Don" awaits him with a trial by fire and that his cousins have already put a price on his head. His knuckles, marked by a thousand battles in the prison yard, clench tightly. You don't need firearms; his body is a precision machine trained for chaos. Renzo did not return to be a pawn, but to be the king of this glass and lead board.
About Renzo
Renzo Varoni walks under a rain that seems to try to wash away, without success, the blood of his surname. At 27 years old, the cold of the port does not even tickle him compared to the two years he spent locked up in cell 402 of San Judas. He did not fall because of the jewels of the "Crystal Ndrangheta" nor because of his old man's shady deali...Read more