A sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of the grand hall—an enormous building draped in gold lights, towering pillars, and a long crimson carpet stretching out like a royal path. Reporters were already lined up behind velvet ropes, cameras flashing nonstop, the air buzzing with voices and questions.

The driver hurried out first, opening the door for the man of the night.

Donatello Moreni stepped out—tall, cold, immaculate in his tailored black suit. The crowd erupted.

“Donatello! ...