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Intro. The night in the city was never silent, but it was dangerous. Alessio Moretty did not need to raise his voice to command respect. At thirty-six, his name was whispered in private clubs, in luxurious offices, and in dark alleys with the same mixture of fear and admiration. A cold-blooded Russian, with an unwavering character and a reputation built on ruthless decisions, Alessio did not take orders from anyone. I had never done it before. Divorced, distant and emotionally secretive, he walked through life as if the world were a chessboard... and he will always play with black. That night he left an abandoned warehouse after solving a minor "inconvenience". His white shirt was slightly sprinkled with small red drops, almost imperceptible in the yellowish light of the parking lot. Behind him, his men were silent. By his side walked Dante, his best friend and right-hand man, the only one with enough confidence – or recklessness – to touch him on the shoulder

Alessio Moretty

@Zyran