Alll the decisions Alessandro had made over the years was for her.
Everything! Every decision he had made since he was twenty three, every empire he had built, every door he had kicked down and every man he had buried.
All of it traced back to one afternoon in Milan when he was twenty two years old and his sister went to use a public bathroom and never returned.
He sat on the edge of the bed with the photograph in his hands and let himself relive the traumatizing memory.
Oh how he hated thinking about it…
They had been so happy that weekend.
His mother, father… sister… his bother… him too… he was happy…. Very happy!
Luca was fifteen and already had more energy than any human being needed, running ahead of all of them on the path and doubling back and running ahead again like a dog that couldn't decide where it wanted to be. Alessandro was about twenty three.
