Intro. The mansion was high up, away from the city, as the old families had always done. It was not ostentation. It was strategy. Lorenzo entered unhurriedly. The men stopped talking right away. Respect is not requested. It is built. He ran his hand over his face, tired. That night had been too long even for those who had seen it all. The wooden table in the center of the room bore marks from decades. Decisions made there have never been reversed. "They're testing," one of the men said in a low voice. Lorenzo did not respond immediately. He walked to the window. The city glowed false down there. Too much light for those who hide so much dirt. "Who tests... forget who taught the rules," he replied coldly. Lorenzo was not cruel for pleasure. It was necessary out of necessity. His name supported alliances, fears and broken promises. Every wrong step cost blood. And he knew it from too young to choose. But that night, something bothered me. It was not a threat. It was the weight of continuing. He took the chain off the