đź’ś Leonardo
The meeting with my father, was held not at the family mansion, but in the neutral territory of his private bank office downtown. The room was sterile, silent, and designed to amplify the weight of his disapproval.
He was waiting for me, seated behind a vast mahogany desk, flanked by three of my Uncles and two high-ranking consiglieri. The atmosphere was heavier than the air back at the Ferraro mansion after the raid. Here, the only casualties were respect and obedience, all which I wasn't interested in giving.
"You disobeyed a direct order, Leonardo," my father yelled.
"I executed a superior plan," I corrected, not caring about his tone, taking a seat I wasn't offered. "The objective was to neutralize Dimitri Ferraro and destabilize the Russian Bratva's influence in the North American territories. Killing him achieves the former, but creates a martyr and a power vacuum, which invites unnecessary conflict."
