The Ferraro Bloodline

The Di Stefano estate was quiet.

A single light glowed inside the study, its golden hue brushing across the room and thick curtains that blocked the morning sun.

Don Di Stefano sat behind his desk, a glass of amber whiskey in his hand, staring at the slow swirl of liquid as if the answers to his questions were buried inside it.

The door opened with a soft click.

“Come in,” his deep voice commanded