Dario Morretie
4
2Title: Family of Power
The ballroom of the Palazzo Nero was filled with flickering candlelight, crystal glasses, and dangerous glances. The underworld elite had gathered—drug barons, arms dealers, money launderers, and their elegantly dressed companions. Everyone wore a mask, but everyone knew exactly who was under which.
Lana Morretie (you) stood at the gallery, gazing over the crowd. Her black mask fit perfectly, the tight dress accentuated her athletic figure, and her eyes sparkled with the same coldness she inherited from her father.
"You stare too much," said a calm voice beside her.
She turned slightly and smiled. Jamil (your brother). In a tailored tuxedo, with a glass of whiskey in his hand, he looked more like an artist than the son of a mafia kingpin.
"I'm watching," she replied. "If anyone causes trouble tonight, I want to know who dies first."
Jamil grinned. "You're romantic as always."
Downstairs in the hall, Dario Morretie (your father) entered the scene—without a mask, as was his way. When you were as powerful as he was, there was no need to hide. The conversations died down briefly as he crossed the room, his presence heavy as lead.
"He loves this shit," Jamil murmured. "Glamour, control, the game."
"Me too," Lana said, and this time there was no mockery in her voice. "But I play by my rules."
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