A name worth Bleeding For

"We got a threat letter," Alessandro said as a glass of whiskey rested near his fingertips, untouched. The warmth of the liquor wasn’t needed — the heat in his gaze was fire enough. His black silk pajama pants hung low on his hips, his chest bare, the defined ridges of his abdomen visible under the muted glow of the room.

The room pulsed with authority. Dim light spilled from the crystal chandelier overhead, casting shadows across the massive oak desk where a map of the Rossi mansion lay sprawled out. Alessandro De Luca stood at the edge of the desk, leaning over the blueprint with casual confidence.

Opposite him, four of his most trusted guards stood rigid in tailored black suits, hands clasped neatly in front of them. Their posture was respectful, professional — but the tension in the room was thick.

"What threat letter, boss?" Luca asked.

"It's from Don Diego Rossi. He threatened that we should return his casino," Alessandro said with a chuckle from his husky voice as he twirled the glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Is he kidding, boss?" Vincenzo asked with a scoff.

"He must have dug his grave before sending the letter," Nico added sarcastically.

"What are we going to do, boss?" Luca asked.

"Father has left the responsibility to me, and I really want to bite where it hurts," Alessandro said with a smirk as he took a sip from his glass.

"What's the plan?" Matteo asked, his tone polite, formal. The others nodded in agreement.

"Making him beg," Alessandro said.

"How do we do that?" Luca asked.

"Holding something he can't do without, something that will make him beg at my feet," Alessandro said. Alessandro ran a finger along the map.

"You enter from the south entrance," he said smoothly, his voice low but commanding.

"They keep minimal security there. Two men on rotation. Subdue them quietly," Alessandro added.

The guards nodded.

"And once we’re inside?" Luca asked as he tilted his head slightly.

Alessandro’s eyes flicked up from the map, cool and calculating.

"You’ll split into two groups. The first handles the perimeter; the second takes the east wing. We need leverage, not casualties. In and out before they know we were there," Alessandro said.

There was a brief silence.

"Sir… may I ask who the target is?" Vincenzo said as he stepped forward slightly.

Alessandro’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. He leaned back slightly, taking the whiskey glass in his hand.

"I would’ve gone for the head," he said smoothly.

"But what’s a body without a head?" He added with a wicked smirk as he took a slow sip of whiskey, savoring it before setting the glass down.

"I want his son. Leo," he said dryly.

There was a brief pause — then a quiet chuckle.

"You’d be doing him a favor, I guess, sir," Luca said as he lifted an eyebrow.

Alessandro’s gaze flicked to him. "Explain," Alessandro said.

Luca shrugged slightly, careful not to overstep.

"With all due respect… Leonard Rossi is no Achilles’ heel. Diego won’t bat an eye if we take him. The man barely looks at his oldest son," Luca explained.

"And you have a better suggestion?" Alessandro narrowed his eyes, considering what Luca said.

"Marco," Luca said. "His second son. He’s stubborn, hotheaded… but he’s Diego’s favorite. You can see it in the way he talks to him — or rather, how angry he gets when Marco doesn’t listen."

Alessandro’s brow furrowed slightly. "Marco."

Luca nodded. "Yes, sir. I’ve seen him a few times. Small guy compared to his brother. Looks harmless, but trust me — he’s not. And Diego? He watches him like a hawk. I’d say taking Marco would hurt more than taking Leo ever could."

Alessandro straightened slightly, resting his hands on his hips. The muscles in his abdomen shifted as he moved, tension settling into his posture. Rain started pouring slowly, swinging down on the glass. Alessandro moved towards the window side, looking at the night view of the city.

"I wasn’t aware Diego had another son," Alessandro finally broke the silence as he turned.

"He keeps him out of the spotlight," Vincenzo explained. "Probably to protect him. But that kind of protection… it tells you everything. Marco is his weakness." Luca added to what Vincenzo said.

Alessandro’s gaze darkened with interest, his lips curving slightly. "Is that so?"

"Yes, sir," Luca said.

For a moment, Alessandro said nothing. He walked back to the table and glanced back at the map, fingers tracing the edges of the Rossi mansion — but his mind wasn’t on the layout anymore.

"Marco Rossi," he said again, letting the name settle on his tongue like a promise, a small smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Change of plans," Alessandro said as he scoffed. The rain clawed at the windows, lightning painting his silhouette in silver.

The guards straightened immediately.

"I want Marco Rossi..." he paused, eyes darkening with something colder than vengeance — curiosity.

The rain clawed at the windows, a steady drumbeat against the glass as if the night itself were mourning what was about to happen. Lightning splintered across the sky, painting the darkened city in brief, violent flashes.