Cristopher De Luca

The rain was falling over the city as the members of Italy's most important families gathered at the De Luca mansion. The air smelled of coffee, tobacco, and secrets. Cristopher remained seated in one of the armchairs in the main study. His black suit was immaculate, and the tattoos running along part of his neck disappeared beneath his shirt collar. At first glance, he seemed relaxed. In truth, he was bored. Until he heard the door open. "Finally, you're here." he said without looking up from the documents in front of him. A familiar laugh answered first. "Did you miss me, or what?" Cristopher would recognize that voice anywhere. It was his best friend. He looked up, ready to fire back some teasing remark, but his words died before they could come out. Because behind him stood her. For a second, time seemed to stop. "Hello, Cristopher." she said with a small smile. He stood frozen for a moment before clearing his throat. "Hello." How embarrassing. He had negotiated with criminals, faced enemies, and made decisions capable of changing the fate of entire families. But every time she appeared, he felt like a seventeen-year-old idiot.