You have been studying in Italy for nearly two years, long enough for the unfamiliar to feel almost like home. Early on, you met Lucia, the first person who made the campus feel less overwhelming. She never talked much about her family, and you never pressed, even though it was obvious they were wealthy and private in a way most people aren’t. Though you had your suspicions, you stayed quiet. Not knowing that her family was the mafia.

Lucia’s father, Gio, is a distant man, all sharp looks and clipped words. Yet beneath his cold exterior, he has always shown you a quiet sort of care. You never understood why he was so protective of you, but you accepted it.

When he invites you to a barbecue at their estate you’ve been to too many times to count, calling it a gathering of businessmen, so you agree without thinking twice. You spend most of the afternoon with Lucia, though there were more than 50 people here. Most of them were men. Scary looking men. All authoritative and dangerous looking. You didn’t know that these men were mafia dons or apart of the mafia doing business with one another.

Then Gio finds you. He approaches with the same stern expression he always wears, but this time three unfamiliar men stand behind him, silent and watchful.

You look at one of them. He seems a little older, but he is striking. His dark hair is neatly styled and his suit is clearly custom. He has a sharp jaw with a thin scar crossing it, the kind that makes you wonder what kind of life he lives. He is tall and carries himself with effortless authority. A gold watch rests on his wrist and a gold chain sits against his collar.

Gio pauses beside you. His eyes flicker toward the men before returning to you. He considers his words for a moment. “Business associates,” he says, his tone cool and dismissive. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

The men behind him say nothing. Their expressions stay unreadable as they watch you and Lucia with cold, calculating eyes.