Tony's face was grim when he woke up that morning.
Whether it was from the lack of sleep or the looming threat of becoming impotent, he couldn't say.
Maybe both.
His mood was dark and brooding—lingering like a storm cloud.
As he descended the carpeted stairs, the faint scent of coffee and fresh bread hung in the air.
But it did nothing to stir his appetite.
He felt like shit.
And maybe he looks like one too—right now.
Crumpled suit.
Wild hair.
A stark contrast to the way he arrived at the mansion yesterday.
'A successful businessman, my ass.'
Maria stood at the base of stairs, a cup of espresso in her hands.
She took one look at his face and raised her brows.
"You're still here, Antonio?" she asked coolly.
The steam from her coffee curled lazily while rising up.
Tony didn't break his stride.
"Yes mamma," he replied, voice flat, and a bit rough from a restless night.
The answer came more like a reflex than respect.
Alvaro was also there—now looking at him.
As if he was waiting.
For what or who, Tony couldn't care less.
The boy was fidgeting with the buttons of his navy blue blazer.
Uncertain light gray eyes met Tony's unforgiving silver ones.
"I'm leaving," Tony informed the two..
Not stopping.
Not giving another glance.
To see if they heard.
The echo of his shoes on the marbled floor followed him to the front door that opened on its own.
Outside, the valet was already waiting, whom Tony notified earlier.
Standing and bowing—besides Tony's borrowed sleek black car.
Holding the key.
Tony breathed in the morning air.
Just as he opened the car, he heard a short commotion.
And an opening of the entrance door and hurried footsteps hurrying behind him.
He did not look.
Then—
'Brother!" Alvaro's voice called out, breathless.
Tony turned slightly.
"It's not their fault." Alvaro said in a hushed voice, eyes darting around like he was afraid of being heard.
Tony's brows drew together.
"What do you mean?"
But Alvaro merely shoved a folded paper into his hands—implicitly.
To others it looked like Alvaro was just grasping Tony's hands.
On the paper was Alvaro's number.
"Call me. Please," his voice cracked as he pleaded.
Then to Tony's surprise, Alvaro hugged him tight.
"I'm glad to see you, brother."
And without waiting for a reply, Alvaro turned and rushed back into the mansion.
Disappearing behind the door that opened and closed.
'Still the same cry baby.'
Then as if sensing something, Tony looked up.
From the third floor—behind a tall arched window framed with ivy—stood Bernardo.
'What are you doing in the old lion's study..?' Tony frowned.
Bernardo was watching him with an unreadable expression.
They stayed like that for a short beat.
Then Bernardo closed the curtain leaving Tony looking up.
When he arrived here yesterday—he felt like a cow going to his own slaughter.
And it was clouding his perception.
But now that morning comes, and the fog has lifted, his senses have become a bit clearer.
And he could feel that something was not right.
Then he shrugged.
'Forget it, I'm now an outsider.'
And he had gotten what he really needed.
He tapped the outside of his suit jacket.
A large brown envelope was tucked safely inside it.
'Just borrowing.'
The drama last night was effective.
No one noticed his eyes that were subtly looking for secret cameras.
And for invincible guards.
The old man's study room has no blind spots, but Tony had found a weakness.
There is no CCTV on the hallway near the study.
And there was no guard allowed near it.
When he left and closed the study's room last night, he had stuck something on the doorknob that would make it easy for him to open it when everybody went to sleep.
While he was talking to the old lion and his father—his eyes were already pinpointing the possible location of important documents.
Making it easier for him to dig around later.
And he's not a part of this family now, so he doesn't have to care about anything.
He bitterly smiled.
The morning air felt so crisp on his skin.
It has a hint of autumn.
Then he looked at the piece of paper in his hands then shoved it to his pants pockets.
'I have to get ready,' Tony thought.
'I have no need for such things like feelings.'
He slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut.
'I don't get much, just one thick envelope with names and places that look like their warehouses and the goods dropping point.'
The car's engine roared to life.
'Should I investigate these places?'
The tires crunched over gravel as he sped down towards the opening steel gate.
'It's too much work.. '
Tony stepped on the accelerator once the gate fully opened.
'I should just give it to them..'
Them—the CIA.
He noticed three black cars nearby.
'And I have to find out which hotel the dinner party's at.'
He remembered Beth.
'I have to contact her,' he thought.
And with that he drove away from the mansion.
Leaving without regrets.
He drove and kept a lookout behind him.
'Classic move, old lion.'
He smirked.
He slammed his foot on the gas.
The engine growled.
Dust kicked up behind him as he lost the tail in narrow turns.
From the compartment beneath the passenger seat, he pulled out a taped satellite phone and dialled a number.
"Beth," he said when the line clicked.
"What time is the Luchese Don landing?"
Static crackled.
Then her voice came through.
"Six pm. They're gonna head to Domodossola."
'If the Luchese Don lands on Milan Malpensa Airport.. it would take him two hours to go to Domodossola.' Tony was calculating the time.
'It would take me three hours to get from Lake Como to Domodossola..'
"And the party?" he asked.
"Hotel Valgrande. Masquerade dinner. Private floor. High security," came the curt reply.
Tony's grin widened.
"And I'm not invited?" he teased.
"Find your way in," said Beth.
Tony can hear her eyes rolling through the phone.
"Alright. Send me a suit and a mask."
A plan was already forming.
"I'm gonna crash that party."
**