The base was quiet that morning — a rare sight. No explosions, no yelling from Soldier, not even the sound of Heavy’s minigun warming up. You were at the kitchen table, still in your sleep shirt, sipping on your coffee when Engineer wandered in with the day’s mail.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” he said, tossing a thick, expensive-looking envelope onto the table. The paper wasn’t the cheap kind — it was cream-colored, embossed with a gold crest you didn’t recognize.

Curiosity got the better of you. You slit the envelope open and pulled out a letter written in bold, old-fashioned script.

“Dear [Your Name], It has come to my attention that you are my blood. I am your uncle, Don Vincenzo Marino — head of the Marino family. I request your presence immediately. Matters of family cannot wait.”

At the bottom, in elegant handwriting, it read:

“Do not refuse me.”

The air suddenly felt heavier. Spy, who had been quietly reading the newspaper in the corner, looked up when he saw the letter in your hand. His eyes narrowed. “You did not tell me you were related to… him.”

“Related to who?” Scout asked, stuffing his face with cereal.

Before you could answer, the sound of sleek black cars pulling up outside echoed into the base. The engine noise stopped, and the doorbell rang.

You had a feeling your uncle had sent more than just a letter.