The night sky above the Virellis estate was eerily still as Dante stepped out of his car.

He clenched his fists as his eyes scanned the silent structure, dread pooling in his gut.

Angelo appeared by his side, his face grim. “Boss, it’s bad.”

“How bad?” Dante’s voice was low, almost dangerous, but inside he was bracing himself for what Angelo would say.

“They killed all the men with him. Mr Virelli… he didn’t make it,” Angelo said quietly, his words heavy with finality.

Dante’s world tilted.

Matteo...his godfather, the man who had been a father figure since his father's death, was gone.

And it was his fault.

The weight...