Chapter 8 - The Interrogation
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The sub-basement holding cells were cold, damp, and smelled strongly of iron and old blood. Alessandro walked down the concrete corridor, his footsteps echoing ominously in the dark space. Nico stood outside the heavy iron door of cell number three, his arms crossed over his massive chest, looking grim.
"She hasn't stopped screaming since we threw her in there, Boss," Nico reported, stepping aside to let Alessandro access the heavy sliding lock. "She keeps demanding her phone."
"Let her scream," Alessandro said coldly. "It will be the last time anyone hears her voice."
He threw the heavy bolt back and pushed the iron door open.
Serena was huddled in the corner of the small, windowless cell. Her beautiful, expensive ivory silk dress was stained with dirt and grime from the floor. Her perfect hair was a tangled mess, and her makeup was smeared with tears of genuine panic. When the door opened, she scrambled to her feet, trying to desperately regain her aristocratic composure.
"Alessandro!" she cried out, rushing toward him, only to be stopped by the terrifying, blank void in his dark eyes. "Please, you have to listen to me! That maid is lying to you! She wants my money! She wants to ruin us!"
Alessandro didn't yell. He didn't strike her. He simply pulled a sleek, wooden chair from the corner of the room, placed it in the center of the cell, and sat down. He looked at her with the clinical, detached curiosity of a scientist examining a poisonous insect.
"Lorenzo Falcone is alive," Alessandro stated, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion.
Serena completely froze. The frantic, desperate energy drained from her body in an instant, leaving her looking hollow and terrified. She realized, with absolute certainty, that her web of lies had been completely destroyed.
"You faked his death three years ago," Alessandro continued, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You planted yourself at that charity gala. You spilled your champagne on my jacket intentionally to get my attention. You spent sixteen months sleeping in my bed, whispering in my ear, preparing to poison me on our wedding night so you could hand my empire over to a ghost."
Serena backed away until her spine hit the cold concrete wall. She didn't try to deny it anymore. The terrifyingly calm demeanor of the mafia boss broke her entirely.
"He promised me power," Serena whispered, her voice trembling violently. "He told me you were weak, Alessandro. He told me you were trying to legitimize the business, that you were abandoning the old ways. He said the capos would follow me once you were dead."
Alessandro let out a dark, humorless laugh that echoed off the damp walls.
"Lorenzo was always a coward," Alessandro sneered, standing up slowly. "He sent his wife to do a job he didn't have the stomach to do himself."
"He isn't a coward!" Serena shrieked, a sudden, venomous loyalty flaring in her eyes. "His men are already moving on this house, Alessandro! The perimeter guards have already been paid off! You are going to die tonight, and Lorenzo will take back the city!"
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Alessandro’s eyes narrowed into lethal slits. He turned his back on her and walked out of the cell.
"Nico," Alessandro commanded as the heavy iron door slammed shut on Serena's screams. "Execute her. And tell the men to prepare for a breach. The war has arrived."
