One man looked up from his mopping as Alessio and Elian approached. His face was weathered, probably in his fifties.
His face immediately brightened and he straightened up, gripping his mop handle.
"Morning, Lombardi!" His voice was respectful, almost eager.
Alessio glanced at him briefly. His lips curved into a slight smile. He gave a single nod, barely a movement of his head, but didn't slow his walk.
The man beamed like he had received a tremendous gift.
They passed another inmate; younger, early twenties, with tattoos covering both arms. As soon as he saw Alessio approaching, his eyes went wide. He pressed himself against the wall, his gaze dropping to the floor immediately.
He held himself perfectly still until Alessio had passed, like he was afraid even breathing too loudly might attract attention.
Alessio didn't acknowledge him at all.
A few steps further, they passed an open cell door. A man leaned against the doorframe; muscular, good-looking, probably in his thirties. His eyes locked onto Alessio immediately.
His gaze traveled slowly from Alessio's face down to his shoulders, his chest, his waist, his legs. Then back up again.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth.
Alessio's head didn't turn toward him.
But Elian saw it; the subtle shift in Alessio's posture. His shoulders straightened just slightly. His spine somehow got even more perfect. His walk became more deliberate, more measured.
Elia could observe that Alessio knew the man was watching. And he was performing for him.
The corner of Alessio's mouth curved into a barely-there smirk.
"Such a pompous show off! " Elian scoffed quietly under his breath.
Alessio's head tilted just a fraction to the side, like he'd heard it. But he didn't turn around. He just kept walking.
The pattern continued as they passed more inmates. Some called out greetings that Alessio acknowledged with minimal effort, some scrambled to get out of his way, some just stared with obvious hunger in their eyes.
Feared. Respected. Desired.
Alessio Lombardi was all three, and he soaked up every bit of attention like a plant in sunlight.
Elian watched it all with growing annoyance.
He wanted to say something, to knock that arrogant smirk off Alessio's face, but he bit his tongue.
They turned a corner and entered a wider corridor near what looked like the administrative section. The walls here were slightly cleaner.
Alessio stopped abruptly.
Elian nearly ran into his back, catching himself at the last second.
Alessio didn't turn around. He just raised one hand and snapped his fingers once.
A guard who had been leaning against the wall about ten feet away immediately pushed off and hurried over. He was middle-aged, slightly overweight, with thinning hair.
"Yes, Mr. Lombardi? What can I do for you?" The respect in his voice was clear.
"I want to participate in the work assignment program," Alessio announced in a casual and pleasant tone.
The guard's eyebrows shot up. His mouth opened slightly in surprise. "Sir? But your family already..." He caught himself, cleared his throat. "I mean, we have another inmate covering your required work hours. It has all been arranged and paid for."
"I know." Alessio waved his hand dismissively. "But I've been thinking. I want the authentic prison experience, you know? Really understand what life is like for everyone else here."
The guard's forehead creased in confusion. He looked genuinely baffled. "Well... if you're sure, Mr. Lombardi, I can certainly assign you to a work detail. We have openings in the kitchen, or there is---"
"Oh, I'm not doing it," Alessio interrupted smoothly. He turned slightly, gesturing back at Elian with a lazy flick of his wrist. "He is."
The guard's eyes followed the gesture, landing on Elian for the first time. He looked Elian up and down, taking in his smaller frame, his rumpled uniform, his guarded expression.
Then he looked back at Alessio. His mouth opened, then closed. He clearly wanted to ask questions but wasn't sure he should.
"Put him in the cleaning department," Alessio continued before the guard could speak. His voice remained pleasant, conversational. "This one right here has a real knack for cleaning. Almost obsessive about it, actually."
Elian's nose scrunched up involuntarily.
"He loves staying busy," Alessio went on, his smile widening. "Gets anxious when he doesn't have enough to do. So please, make sure he is assigned plenty of work. The more the better. Really pile it on. He will appreciate it."
The guard glanced between them again. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to understand what he was really seeing here.
But ultimately, he just shrugged. Money talked in this prison, and the Lombardi family had plenty of it.
"Alright then." He gestured for Elian to come forward. "Follow me. I will get you set up with the cleaning supervisor."
Elian's hands curled into fists at his sides. His jaw clenched so tight it hurt.
But he kept his face blank. His shoulders back. His chin up.
He was determined to not give Alessio the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.
He stepped forward, moving past Alessio.
As he did, Alessio leaned in just slightly. His voice dropped to a whisper low enough that only Elian could hear: "Have fun, *tesoro*. I will be watching to make sure you work hard."
Elian didn't look at him. He just kept walking, following the guard down the corridor.
But he could feel Alessio's eyes on his back- heavy, intense, amused.
And he knew, without turning around, that Alessio was smirking.
"That bastard!" Elian gritted harder.
"Fine. Let him smirk. Let him think he was winning... I will show him exactly how stubborn I can be." Elian mumbled under his breath.