Salvatore's POV
The drive back to the estate was suffocatingly quiet, the hum of the Maserati's engine the only sound against the backdrop of the dark Palermo streets.
Roberto drove with his usual precision, his eyes on the road, ignoring the tension radiating from the back seat.
Giovanna sat beside me, staring out the window, her profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. She hadn't said a word since we left the Domenico villa.
Alessandro was in the front passenger seat, equally quiet, his jaw working like he was chewing on words he couldn't safely say out loud.
Finally, Giovanna turned, her eyes hard in the darkness.
"You know what he was doing tonight, don't you?" Her voice was low but sharp enough to cut.
"He was marking his territory," I said, keeping my voice even, though my jaw was tight. "Like a dog pissing on a fence post."
