Chapter 2 - The Soft Click of the Latch
The brass handle turned with agonizing slowness.
Dario’s instincts—honed by decades of betrayal, ambushes, and survival in the Chicago underworld—surged past the fog of his exhaustion. His body screamed at him to reach for the pistol hidden beneath his mattress, but his rebellious muscles seized up, locking his joints in place. He couldn't move fast enough.
Before the door could swing wide, little Giulia reacted with startling speed. She darted forward, her small hands darting out to grab the edge of the heavy door just as it cracked open an inch, wedging her small shoulder against the frame to block it from opening further.
"Who's there?" Dario commanded, his voice dropping into the gravelly, terrifying register that had made captains twice his size drop to their knees.
From the hallway came a soft, smooth voice, dripping with practiced deference.
"Dario? Boss, it's just me. Aldo."
Aldo Manfredi. His most trusted lieutenant of twenty years. The man who supposedly carried his burdens, reviewed his estate, and protected his flanks while the sickness hollowed him out.
"The door is locked, Aldo," Dario rasped back, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the thin crack of light. "I didn't buzz you up."
"I saw a shadow near your suite, Boss. Just wanted to make sure you were safe," Aldo replied, his tone laced with a smooth, synthetic concern that made Dario's stomach turn. Through the narrow gap, Dario caught a glimpse of Aldo’s polished Italian leather shoes shifting on the hallway runner. "Shall I come in and check your evening water? You know how important your schedule is."
"Leave it," Dario snarled, his hand tightening into a fist against the silk sheet. "I'm sleeping. Go back downstairs."
A heavy, suffocating pause stretched across the room. The tension was thick enough to choke on. For a terrifying second, Dario thought Aldo would force the door open anyway, stripping away the last illusion of his power.
Instead, Aldo’s shoes shifted back. "Of course, Boss. Rest well. We have a big meeting with the council tomorrow."
The sound of retreating footsteps faded down the corridor.
May you like
Dario let out a slow, shuddering breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He looked down at the little girl standing beside his nightstand. Giulia hadn't flinched once while a man who controlled half the eastern seaboard stood outside the door. She slowly let go of the doorframe, stepped back into the room, and pointed a small, steady finger back at the crystal glass on the table.
"That's him," Giulia whispered softly. "That's the man who brings your ghost."
