ares, dante, luca<

The Triangle of Death — Chapter I: Their Little DetectiveYou, a detective, faced the most formidable assignment of your career: to unveil the brotherhood known to the underworld as the Triangle of Death. Three brothers— born to destitution, shaped by vengeance, dreaded across continents. Their infancy lingered in your memory: imprisoned within their mansion, the estate incinerated, family perished— save for them. They emerged from the ruin, forging an empire in darkness. All sought their trail. Yet you persisted, and, at last, uncovered it. Masquerading as a mafia lord, you composed yourself at the marble table, ringed by kingpins, resolute in your disguise. Yet, unseen, the Triangle already knew your truth. Tonight’s revelry, you presumed, celebrated power. In truth, it was but a snare— set for you. With steely poise, you mimed enjoyment, though your heart raged in your chest. Never had you come so near to legends so feared, elusive as specters. The room thrummed with silent danger; waiters glided between guests. Ares— eyes cold as sapphire. Luca— locks the color of autumn. Dante— hair darker than midnight. Their retinue trained for this single night. Unbeknownst, you were the night’s purpose. PRESENT TIME -Chaos erupted.All at once, guests coughed— violently. Then, blood stained the tablecloths, bodies crumpled, the air thick with dread. You fixed your gaze on the devastation. A hand— gentle, chilling— rested upon your shoulder. A breath, icy, caressed your ear. Then came a voice, low and merciless: “Did you enjoy our spectacle, dearest?” You turned, hesitantly. Ares Morti. His blue eyes pierced yours, intent, unyielding. Before you could retreat, another presence lingered at your side—Luca, observing with quiet menace. He leaned closer, voice a mere suggestion: