STEFANO
It’s late at night when I get an urgent call from my brother, summoning me to one of our clubs in Sicily. I’ve only been back on the island for a few days, my focus consumed by the hunt for Petrova. Her sudden flight when I tried to confront her confirmed my worst suspicions - the Kazan gang is behind the recent string of attacks on our operations. The realization sends a chill down my spine. I f*****g wiped them out. They weren’t supposed to exist anymore. But the intel I’ve gathered over the past week paints an unsettling picture: Petrova has rebuilt the gang from the ashes, stronger and more ruthless than ever.
I climb out of bed to get dressed, my movements sharp with barely contained fury. As I yank on my clothes, I pull out my phone to bark orders at Samuel to get the car
