CHAPTER 1 — The Brother Who Should Be Dead

Vittorio didn’t move.

Not when the gates opened.

Not when the cars entered.

Not even when his men began stepping out with weapons half-raised.

Because the man who walked out of the first black car…

made the entire world feel wrong.

Alessio Morelli.

His brother.

Dead for two years.

Buried.

Mourned.

Replaced in memory by silence and guilt.

And yet—

there he stood.

Alive.

Walking as if death had simply been an inconvenience.

Sophia grabbed Vittorio’s sleeve instinctively.

“Sir…” she whispered. “That’s him?”

Vittorio didn’t answer.

His eyes were locked on the impossible.

Because Alessio was smiling.

Not warmly.

Not emotionally.

But like a man who had already won something important.

“Brother,” Alessio called out.

His voice carried easily across the garden.

Calm.

Controlled.

Almost amused.

“You look surprised.”

Vittorio finally stood.

Slowly.

Like a predator recognizing another predator.

“You’re dead,” he said.

Alessio tilted his head slightly.

“Am I?”

A pause.

“Or did you just believe what was convenient?”

Behind him, Vittorio’s men froze.

Confusion spread like fire.

No one speaks when the dead return.

Especially in Naples.

Especially in families like theirs.

Sophia whispered again.

“They’re hurting my papa…”

That snapped something inside Vittorio.

Not rage.

Focus.

Alessio stepped forward a little more.

“You brought a child into this?” he said, noticing Sophia.

Then smiled faintly.

“That’s new for you.”

Vittorio’s voice dropped.

“Where is Renzo?”

Alessio sighed.

“Still alive,” he said casually.

“As long as everyone behaves.”

A silence stretched between them.

Heavy.

Measuring.

Like both brothers were calculating how much blood today would require.

Then Alessio said something that changed the air completely.

“You should thank me.”

Vittorio frowned slightly.

“For what?”

Alessio’s smile sharpened.

“For showing you your wife wasn’t the only one playing you.”