What She Left Behind
The phone was still ringing.
Alessandro held it in his hand, unmoving. The name Padré glowed across the screen like a silent command, one none of them were ready to obey.
No one spoke.
Not Adriano, whose jaw was clenched so tight you could see the muscle ticking.
Not Gabriele, who was sitting straighter now, brows drawn together.
The brothers sat frozen in the aftermath of their heated conversation, Diamond tucked under Adriano’s arm, her gaze flitting between them like she’d stumbled into a room full of loaded guns—waiting for one to go off.
Nobody moved.
“Answer it,” Gabriele finally said, his voice low but firm.
Alessandro didn’t. He just stared at the screen as if expecting it to explode.
“No,” he muttered.
Gabriele stared at him. “No?”
“What if he’s already been informed about the assassination attempt?” Alessandro replied, his thumb hovering over the screen but never touching.
“There’s no fucking way he already knows,” Adriano scoffed, shaking his head. “That shit literally just happened.”
“You underestimate him,” Gabriele said, his tone a little darker now. “Padré has eyes and ears in places we don't even know exist.”
Alessandro’s jaw flexed.
He looked between his two brothers, then at the phone again, the name Padré glowing like a warning.
“It’s definitely about what went down last night,” he said, breath shallow.
“What if it’s not?” Adriano challenged, his voice a mix of defiance and dread. “What if it’s about something else?”
“Well…” Gabriele leaned back on the couch, arms folded, “We’ll never know unless Sandro answers the damn phone.”
Before Alessandro could reply, the ringing stopped.
Just like that, silence fell like a curtain.
A strange relief settled over the room, a collective breath none of them realized they were holding releasing all at once. Adriano ran a hand down his face. Diamond blinked, unsure whether to be relieved or worried. Alessandro dropped the phone in his lap, rubbing his eyes.
A moment of peace.
Until—
BZZZT. BZZZT.
Gabriele’s phone started ringing.
Everyone looked over to him.
The exact same name lit up on the screen.
Padré.
“Merda!” (Shit!) Gabriele cursed under his breath. He glanced at his brothers, holding the phone like it was a live grenade. “This is definitely urgent.”
Adriano stood up, pacing, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “Then fucking answer it already!”
Gabriele hesitated for a breath, then swiped to answer. He put the phone on speaker and held it out in front of him.
“Pronto, papà,” Gabriele greeted in Italian, his voice respectful but measured.
“Gabriele,” Don Raffaele’s voice came through the speaker, deep and commanding, as if he were standing in the room with them. “Come stai, figlio mio? How have you been since arriving in the States?”
“Tutto bene. I’m good. Everything’s gone smoothly so far.” Gabriele answered cautiously, casting a look toward his brothers.
“Good, but I didn’t call to waste time on pleasantries so let's get to business.”
Adriano rolled his eyes, scoffing under his breath. “Shocker.”
Don Raffaele continued, “Listen closely. I’m changing your mission. Forget the original reason I sent you to America.”
The room shifted.
Adriano tensed.
Alessandro straightened.
Even Diamond glanced at Adriano.
Don Raffaele’s voice didn’t pause. “I tried to call Alessandro, but he didn’t pick up. So now I’m telling you because you need to inform your brothers. Immediately.”
Gabriele’s brows furrowed. “Inform them about what?”
“La Rosa Nera.”
The air in the room thickened instantly.
“We’re already aware they’re here, papà,” Gabriele replied carefully. “We—”
“I’m not done,” Don Raffaele cut in, his voice firm. “Their don—that bastard, Valentino Moretti—is in the United States right now. Right under your noses.”
The three brothers immediately locked eyes. They exchanged glances filled with shock and disbelief.
Adriano leaned back into the couch slowly. Diamond sat stiff beside him, frowning, trying to track the conversation.
“He’s in America?” Gabriele finally said, not bothering to hide the venom in his voice. “Are you sure?”
“My sources are never wrong,” their father replied. “And there’s more.”
He paused, and the silence on the line was deafening.
“In two weeks, Valentino is hosting an illegal auction in Los Angeles. High-profile. Hidden location. Invite-only.”
“An auction?” Gabriele repeated.
“Yes. One of the items being sold,” Don Raffaele said, and his voice dropped an octave lower, more dangerous now, “is a Burmese ruby necklace valued at over $30 million.”
All three brothers leaned forward at once.
Don Raffaele continued. “The same ruby necklace that belonged to your mother.”
Time stopped.
The world seemed to tilt.
Adriano’s hand fell from his hair.
Alessandro’s fists clenched against his knees.
Diamond looked from one face to the other, confused.
“It’s Rosalia’s,” Don Raffaele said. “That necklace was never lost. It was taken and I want it back.”
Gabriele’s throat bobbed. “Padré…”
“There’s more—so much more,” Don Raffaele said. “I want all three of you on this. This mission won’t be easy. It will be dangerous. Deadly. You’ll need to infiltrate the auction, identify the players, and retrieve the necklace by any means necessary.”
He took a breath.
“I have more intel to give but all want all three of you in the room when I say it. Call me back when you have Adriano and Alessandro with you.”
The line went dead.
Gabriele slowly lowered the phone, locking it, the room thick with silence again.
Adriano sat down, almost mechanically. His jaw was locked, eyes burning with something unspoken.
Rosalia.
The name felt like an open wound.
Alessandro hadn’t moved. He stared at the floor, his mind clearly racing.
And Diamond?
She looked between them, completely lost. “Can someone please explain to me what just happened?”