Elias lifted his head to meet the old man's gaze when he heard that name... Alessandro. It hung in the air like a whisper from a forgotten dream, and for a moment, Elias felt a strange pull, as if the word was meant for him. It was as if he was meant to answer the call of that name, but he didn't even know anyone by that name, nor had he ever heard it in connection to himself, but the way the old man said it, with that mix of shock and recognition, made his skin prickle.
The family stood there in the driveway of the safe house, the morning sun casting long shadows, the air crisp with the scent of dew on the grass. Viktor had gathered everyone outside to greet their unexpected visitor, the head of the Corleone family himself, Marco Corleone. The chopper's rotors had slowed to a stop, and Marco had stepped out, aided by his walking stick and guards, his presence commanding despite his age.
Viktor started forward, his brow furrowed in concern. "Sir, is everything okay? You look..."
