Castellan Port, Midnight.
The night was heavy as the faint scent of salt and gasoline clung to the air like morning dew on the grass. The Castellan Port didn't sleep.... not ever. It was always busy and noisy, filled with tension, fear and crime but it got struck by silence each time the Valentinis came through it.
The Dock-Workers always bent their backs carrying and moving crates that were boldly stamped with labels of "Mediterranean Trade Exports". Everyone within the port knew the labels were a lie, it was used to cover up the content and crime hidden in it.
inside was bricks of cocaine stacked like they were the likes of the bricks of marble; they were neatly packaged and waiting to poison three cities.
"Move your fuckin' dicks faster, you limp dicks", Matteo tousled while lighting a cigarette, as his knuckles were smeared with blood from beating a dockworker who dropped a crate earlier as the poor bastard still coughed blood into the sea.
Luciano propped against the hood of a black Maserati as a cigarette dangled in his lips while his smirk became wider from watching the chaos. "Jesus, Teo, you ever think of taking a holiday? Maybe a yoga retreat? You can't keep cracking skulls every time some rat sneezes on the job."
"Shut your comic mouth" Matteo rumbled while he exhaled smoke through his nose. "At least I'm not busy fuckin' half the whores in New Verona while shipments are late, you piece of sh*t."
Luciano chuckled, while adjusting the cufflinks on his perfectly tailored suit, almost trying to mock and intimidate Matteo. "Late or not, the coke still flows," he paused and looked at Matteo then continued, "Brother, and unlike you.... I enjoy life while getting rich."
Dante stood apart from them, almost always. His arms were folded and his eyes were like ice beneath the dock lights. Unlike his brothers, he didn't like to raise his voice.... because he never needed to—his silence was a blade sharper than any knife. When he finally spoke, it cut.
"Both of you shut the fuck up. One more word, and I'll let Father hear how you can't even manage a dock without fighting like.... stray dogs."
The workers froze. Even Matteo's jaw tightened. Dante didn't raise his tone. He didn't have to.
The crates hit the ground with hollow thuds, and the scent of salt and cocaine powder hung in the air. The Valentinis had arrived.
Brothers' Clash
Finally, the last crate was slammed onto the dock with a dull thunk.
Matteo pissed flicked his cigarette into the sea and walked closer to Luciano with a predator's grin. "You keep runnin' your mouth, pretty boy, and one day I'll just have to staple it shut."
Luciano said nothing, he simply smirked, unfazed while brushing off invincible dust of his suit jacket.
"Staple it? That actually sounds kindda cute, c'mon what are you? A schoolteacher now? Tell you what, Teo —when you're done playing dockyard thug, come find me at the club. I'll show you how a real man.... makes money."
Matteo fist yanked.
"Real man? You sniff coke off a stripper's tits and call it business. If I wasn't stuck cleanin' up your messes every goddamn week—"
"Enough"
Dante's voice cut through the air and the argument like a bullet.
The workers froze, heads ducked. Even Luciano fell silent.
Dante stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, his dark suit crisp as if the filth of the dock couldn't touch him. "You two bicker like children. Do you know what children get in this family?" His icy stare sliced through both of them. "They get buried before they become problems."
A beat of silence. Then Luciano chuckled low, though his eyes never left Dante's.
"Relax, fratello. No need to play undertaker yet. We're just keeping things lively."
Matteo spat on the ground, glaring but withdrawing.
The hierarchy was clear: Dante didn't shout, but his word was law.
Daddy's Call
Suddenly, a ringtone came through the tension, able to reduce the fire that was slowly brewing between the brothers. Dante pulled his phone from his pocket. It only took one glance at the screen to make his expression shift slightly.
Alessandro Valentini.
The dock seemed.... colder.
He answered.
"Father."
The Don's voice rasped through the speaker like gravel soaked in whiskey.
"Where the fuck are you?"
"At the port. Shipment's clean."
"Shipment? I didn't ask you to give me a fuckin' report." The old man's tone honed. "I asked why my three useless sons aren't in my house this goddamn second."
Luciano leaned in closer this time while widening his smirk. "Tell him his dock guard is too busy beating up dock rats."
Matteo, well he simply flipped him the finger.
Dante basically ignored them both.
"You didn't beckon on us, Father. What seems to be the problem?"
His father said nothing. The Don's laugh was humorless.
"What's 'seems to be the problem' you ask?" Don Alessandro asked almost trying to mock Dante's words. "Get in the car now and stop asking me meaningless questions."
Almost immediately, the line went dead.
Dante's expression was stern as he pocketed his phone, his jaw then tightened.
"Father called, he says he wants us home," he paused shifting his gaze from the floor to his brothers who were standing in the corner, then he continued, "Immediately."
Luciano, almost like he was not convinced, arched a brow. "Home? At this hour? What's that old man hiding now—another mistress, or a corpse he can't bury alone?"
Matteo simply growled, his voice almost too firm. "If he's calling us back, it ain't good."
Daddy's Threat
The boys had barely taken five steps towards their car when Dante's phone rang once more.
But this time, Alessandro's voice was so solid and loud that even the dockworkers heard it.
"You deaf motherfuckers? I said home. If I have to call a third time, I'll cut your throats myself and feed you to the fucking dogs."
For the first time in almost never, there was a moment of silence.
Luciano's smirk slipped.Matteo's fists clenched.Even Dante's cold mask cracked, just enough to show respect—or fear.
No one defied Alessandro Valentini. Not even his sons.
The Drive Back To The Mansion
Engines roared as sleek black Maseratis rolled away from the dock, headlights slicing through fog.
Inside, the brothers sat in tense silence.
Luciano broke it first, smirking though his eyes betrayed unease.
"Well, well, well, place your bets, gentlemen. What do you guys think is father's little midnight surprise?" he asked looking at his brothers, none of them answered, it was almost as if they were actually thinking..... for the first time.
"Let me guess; Did we piss off the Montclairs? Did the Dragunovs burn another shipment?" Luciano asked almost like he was getting serious.
"Just shut the fuck up Lucio" Matteo muttered, while staring out the window as his knuckled whitened. "If the old man's pissed, it ain't business. It's gotta be personal."
Dante drove in silence, eyes fixed ahead. He didn't speak until the Valentini mansion's dark silhouette appeared through the trees.
"Whatever it is," he said flatly, "you'll both keep your mouths shut. Father's wrath isn't for sharing."
The car rolled up the long drive, the mansion looming like a fortress of shadows.
And for the first time in years, all three brothers felt the same thing.
Not power.
Not pride.
Fear.