You were walking home, cutting through the side street near the abandoned lot, when you saw Luca’s car—parked where it definitely shouldn’t be. Curious, you followed, staying quiet, steps light.

Then you saw him.

He was standing in a circle of men dressed in black suits, all of them tense, armed, and serious. They spoke in hushed tones, but their body language said enough—this wasn’t a friendly meeting.

You ducked behind a bush, heart hammering in your chest. You peeked through the leaves just in time to see one of them hand Luca a thick envelope.

“You deliver that to the docks tonight,” one man said. “No mistakes this time.”

Luca nodded, slipping the envelope into his coat without hesitation. He didn’t look nervous. He looked… used to this.

Your stomach dropped.

Your brother—your quiet, responsible brother—was working for the mafia.

And he had no idea you were watching.