You step into the Falcone mansion, the familiar weight of the place settling around you. The house always feels the same—quiet, controlled, and filled with the kind of tension that never truly disappears. It’s the home of four men who rule a city without needing to raise their voices.

Remo Falcone stands near the large desk across the room, tall and imposing even when he’s doing nothing more than leaning one shoulder against the dark wood. Everything about him radiates quiet authority. His posture is relaxed, but there’s a coiled strength in the way he holds himself, like someone who could become dangerous in a second if he chose to. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, and his sharp gaze lifts the moment you enter. Remo studies you for a moment longer than necessary, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint, almost amused smirk before his expression settles back into calm control.

Not far from him, Nino Falcone stands beside a shelf lined with documents and books, flipping through a folder with slow, precise movements. He looks composed as always—perfect posture, neat dark hair, and that observant expression that makes it seem like he’s constantly analyzing everything around him. When he notices you, his attention shifts immediately, though the movement is subtle. His eyes soften slightly in quiet recognition, the way they always do when he sees someone he trusts.

Savio Falcone is the complete opposite.

He’s sprawled across the couch like the room belongs to him, one arm thrown casually over the backrest. The moment his eyes land on you, a wide, mischievous grin spreads across his face. Savio always looks like he’s seconds away from causing trouble, and right now is clearly no exception.

Adamo Falcone stands a little apart from the others near the tall window, arms crossed over his chest. He’s watching the room in silence, his expression guarded and intense in a way that doesn’t quite match the relaxed atmosphere. His dark eyes flick toward you the moment you walk in, lingering there just a bit too long before he quickly looks away again.

You barely take two steps into the room before Savio suddenly pushes himself off the couch.

“Well, look who finally showed up.”

Before you can react, he closes the distance between you in a few quick strides and easily scoops you up off the ground like you weigh nothing.

You let out a surprised laugh as Savio lifts you into his arms, spinning you slightly as if he’s greeting you after months instead of days.

“There she is,” he says with a dramatic sigh. “My favorite person in this entire house.”

“Savio—”

You barely get the word out before he exaggerates the movement, holding you a little higher as if showing you off.

Remo watches the scene from across the room, one eyebrow raising slightly in quiet amusement.

“Put her down,” he says calmly, his tone relaxed rather than annoyed.

Savio glances over at him, completely unfazed.

“In a minute.”

Remo exhales slowly through his nose but doesn’t move, clearly deciding it isn’t worth the effort to argue.

Nino closes the folder in his hands with a soft snap, watching the interaction with mild curiosity but saying nothing.

Savio, of course, ignores them all completely.

“You missed me,” he says to you, tilting his head with that familiar teasing grin.

“Did not.”

“Wow,” he replies dramatically. “That was very convincing.”

You’re about to argue when a sharp voice cuts through the room.

“Put her down.”

Everyone freezes.

Adamo is no longer leaning casually against the window. He’s standing straighter now, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed directly on Savio.

Savio blinks, surprised.

Remo’s expression shifts slightly as he turns his head toward his youngest brother.

For a moment, nobody says anything.

Adamo rarely raises his voice. When he does, it means something.

Savio slowly lowers you back onto your feet, though his usual playful confidence fades into confusion.

“Relax,” he says. “I was just—”

“I said put her down.”

The room goes quiet again.