Mid-November 2022. The night air was seventeen degrees Celsius. The Mediterranean.

A superyacht over a hundred meters long was gliding across the Mediterranean.

It had cost around two hundred twenty million euros just to build.

"A little hotter."

"Yes, Matteo."

At the edge of the heated pool, a woman adjusted the water temperature as she answered.

Matteo Bellardi. He was the man who'd asked for the water hotter.

His skin was sun-bronzed, his hair dark brown.

He wore it swept back. Under thick brows, his dark brown eyes put a strange pressure on people even when he barely looked at them.

Usually his gaze was deep and unhurried.

When there was nothing to do he looked languid, but when something needed his attention, the look in his eyes changed the whole mood in an instant.

It was a hard look, as if he were calculating what the person in front of him was worth.

He had a high, straight nose. His beard was cut short, and his sideburns were neatly trimmed along the line of his jaw, which suited him.

His jaw was heavy and strong, but it didn't make him look too rough.

If anything, the sculpted lines of his face brought out that deep southern Italian charm even more.

Matteo was the eldest son of the Bellardi family, which had ruled the Sicilian underworld for decades.

He was shirtless, and thick dark hair spread broad across his chest.

An old gold chain hung around his thick neck.

Between his fingers was a half-smoked Cuban cigar.

Beside him, three women in bikinis held champagne glasses and splashed around in the water.

"Matteo."

"What?"

"A call for you."

An attendant in a black suit handed him a satellite phone.

With the stub of the cigar in his mouth, Matteo checked the screen.

The moment he saw who it was, he gave the woman on his arm a little push and pulled his arm free.

"Everybody, beat it."

The women's laughter, which had filled the pool a moment earlier, suddenly faded into the distance. Matteo made sure no one was nearby,…