Under the Don’s Eye
On the west side of the Villa, in the basement, in the wine cellar. There is a door. It’s the door no one wants to go through. Luca unlocks the door with a code. They drag Emilio down the hall to the last door, which is the interrogation room. Anyone who enters this room usually never leaves unless in a body bag. They enter the room with Concrete walls on all sides except one, which has a one-way mirror. Single metal table bolted to the floor. A single chair was bolted down opposite three others, and another table stood nearby, equipped with various tools. The hum of the single overhead light filled the silence.
Emilio Scarpelli sat cuffed to the table, his shirt rumpled, his jaw already showing the beginnings of a bruise from when Marco “helped” him into the car.
Luca entered first, flanked by Marco and Vittorio.
No one spoke as they sat down.
Marco dropped a folder on the table so hard that the noise made Emilio flinch.
“Names,” Marco said flatly. “Safehouses. Your father’s next move.”
Emilio gave a crooked grin. “What makes you think I’d tell you anything?”
Vittorio leaned forward, his smile easy but his eyes sharp as glass.
“Because, caro ragazzo, you’re here. And no one—not even your precious papà—knows where you are. That means the only people who can keep you breathing… are sitting at this table.”
Luca rested his elbows on the table, folding his hands. His voice was soft, almost conversational.
“You know what your father did to my family. You also know he’s not the type to come running for you if it costs him too much.”
That made Emilio’s smirk twitch. Marco noticed. He pressed harder, his tone low and dangerous.
“Your brother already tried to fill your shoes once. Remind me—how did that end, Luca?”
Luca didn’t look away from Emilio. “Closed casket.”
The silence stretched.
Vittorio broke it, his tone almost playful. “But you, Emilio… you could be useful. And useful people get to live in far nicer conditions than… this.” He gestured to the concrete walls.
Emilio’s jaw clenched. “If I talk, my father will kill me.”
Luca’s gaze didn’t waver. “If you don’t talk, I’ll let Vittorio, my executioner, decide what happens next.”
Vittorio, smiling evilly, leaned in close enough that Emilio could smell the faint scent of gun oil on his suit. “I’ve had a terrible week, so I would make it painful.”
Emilio swallowed.
Vittorio saw the crack forming and slid a piece of paper and pen across the table. “Start with the names. Then we’ll talk about keeping you alive.”
Emilio stared at the paper for a long moment… then his cuffed hands began to move.
The pen scratched across the paper, Emilio’s cuffed wrist making awkward arcs.
Name after name.
Safehouse addresses.
A warehouse on the docks.
A poker club with no signage in the old quarter.
An apartment building that Luca knew had already been burned in a fire two months ago. Luca’s brow twitched at that last one.
“You sure about that address?” he asked casually.
Emilio didn’t look up. “Absolutely. My father’s been using the top floor for meetings.”
Vittorio leaned back in his chair, studying Emilio as though the man were a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.
“Funny,” he said lightly. “That building had an electrical fire. Made the news. No one’s been in it since.”
Emilio froze for the barest second, then went back to writing. “Guess the news was wrong.”
Marco’s voice dropped to a growl. “Guess you’re testing my patience.”
Luca lifted a hand—just enough to keep Marco from losing his temper too soon. “Let him finish.”
When Emilio finally put the pen down, he slid the paper across the table. His cuffed wrist rattled with the movement. “That’s all I’ve got. More than enough to cripple my father’s operations.”
Vittorio picked up the paper, reading it twice, eyes narrowing at the mix of genuine and questionable intel.
“Some of this smells like a setup,” he murmured to Luca.
Luca agreed. “That’s why we confirm every location before making a move. Quietly.”
Marco leaned forward until his shadow fell over Emilio.
“If any of this turns out to be a trap, you’ll wish we’d handed you back to your father.”
Emilio smirked again, but there was sweat on his temple now.
“I’m already dead either way. At least this way, I get to make him bleed a little first.”
That line gave Luca pause. There was bitterness there—real bitterness. But whether it came from betrayal or a calculated performance, he couldn’t yet tell.
He stood. “Get him cleaned up and moved somewhere secure. Vittorio, check those addresses. Marco—pull together a strike team, but don’t deploy until I say.”
As they left the room, Vittorio glanced sideways at Luca.
“You think he’s playing us?”
Luca’s eyes stayed on the hallway ahead.
“I think Emilio Scarpelli’s smart enough to play everyone—including his father. Which makes him dangerous… but possibly very useful.”
Later that night in Luca’s bedroom, “Do you think I was too cruel?”
Marco turned to him.
“No.”
“Good.”
Pause.
“I didn’t feel small, Marco.”
“I know.”
Luca came over and put his head on Marco's chest.
“But I still want to be.”
Marco kissed his forehead. “You can be. When you choose to.”
“I choose now,” Luca whispered.
Marco wrapped an arm around him. Pulled him close.
And Luca let go of the cold. Let go of the dungeon. Let go of the boy who screamed, and the part of himself that had stood there, unmoved.
Because that wasn’t all he was. He was still soft, still little, and still wanted to be held. The world would learn, piece by piece, that being soft and being dangerous were never opposites. He was both, and Marco loved him for it.
Marco picked Luca up, put him on the bed, and then took Luca’s clothes piece by piece. By the time Luca was in just his boxers. He was little. Marco went to the closet to grab a bag he bought the other day for Luca.
“Luca, this is for you because you are such a good boy.” He handed the bag to Luca. Luca opened the bag and pulled out a blush pink bunny onesie with matching slippers.
“Marco, I love it. Can you help me put it on?” Marco helps put on the onesie for Luca. He looks adorable in it, especially with the hood up. It has floppy ears and a cute bunny tail.
“You look adorable, Luca. I just want to eat you up. Come on, let's go to bed.” Marco grabs Luca and pulls him down on the bed with him.