Quicksand of Fate

Sandro didn't think of threatening Lorenzo. What he wanted from this outing was to make it as peaceful as possible, hoping it would change Lorenzo's atmosphere.

But even though he hadn't realized it at first, when he focused on it and felt the contradiction within Lorenzo, he noticed that Lorenzo had suppressed his desire to kill him eight times already during the outing.

The good news was that Lorenzo could suppress his desire to kill; he hadn't expressed any killing intent, nor had he shown any disturbance or violence. Sandro sensed Lorenzo's desire to kill only due to his training as a field commander and warrior, having spent ten years on the battlefield.

The bad news was that Lorenzo had thought about killing him several times, simply because Sandro had pulled him out of that damned hole.

This was not normal, and his father should be aware of this, contrary to what the psychiatrist—whatever his name was—had said about Lorenzo.

Lorenzo had not become tolerant of those who invaded his personal space or provoked him. Instead, he had only become better at hiding his dark thoughts.

The car ride back to Lorenzo's apartment continued in complete silence. Sandro sat with his arms crossed, staring straight ahead, his mind already shifting to the task awaiting him on the northern border after sending a message to his father summarizing the results of the outing with Lorenzo.

Lorenzo, leaning beside him with his head resting on the window, stared vacantly as the city passed by in a haze of dim gray and white.

Neither brother spoke.

When the car finally stopped in front of Lorenzo's building, the driver got out to open the door. Lorenzo moved and got out without saying a word.

As he approached the entrance, Emilio stood waiting, his body straight and his hands clasped tightly. The butler's quiet presence was familiar, but Lorenzo hardly noticed it.

"Lorenzo."

His brother's voice stopped him. Lorenzo turned over his shoulder to see Sandro leaning out of the car window.

Sandro's sharp gaze met his, and for a moment, his tone softened slightly as he spoke. "Take care of yourself."

Lorenzo said nothing, silently watching as Sandro straightened up and motioned for the driver to continue. The car pulled away, leaving Lorenzo on the sidewalk, his hands deep in his pockets.

The autumn sunlight glared down on him, and he looked up into the bright light. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare but did not move.

Behind him, Emilio waited patiently, saying nothing as he stood still.

The sky seemed endless, a blue yet bleak expanse stretching beyond reach.

How did it come to this?

The thought floated through his mind like a whisper, uninvited and unwelcome.

He slowly dropped his arm to his side, his eyes fixed on the sky. The memories came scattered, blurry, and fragmentary, as if they belonged to someone else. His childhood seemed distant, like an old photograph faded with time to the point that even he no longer knew if they were memories or mere hallucinations.

Most of his childhood memories were emptiness—an unfillable space no matter how hard he tried. But what remained stuck in his mind like a faint dream:

Fear.

Cold.

And waiting.

Always waiting.

The ghost of memory moved, and with it came the faint echo of a promise:

"I will be back."

A woman with white hair shining like moonlight, her face so mysterious that it was unrecognizable. Her soft, warm voice wrapped around him like a blanket on a cold night.

She knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his small, trembling face. Her touch was gentle, and her words whispered, especially for him, like a melody.

"I will be back," she promised.

And he believed her.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But she never came back.

As he waited, the vibrant and colorful world slowly turned gray. The light dimmed, the warmth faded, and everything became tasteless, lifeless, and stagnant.

He waited so long that he forgot what he was waiting for.

Lorenzo blinked, and the sunlight brought him back to the present. His hand returned to his pocket, his body tense and stiff, and an unspoken frustration writhed deep within him.

"Let's go," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Emilio stepped forward, his calm presence confusing Lorenzo as they returned to the apartment building. His frustration grew, either for no reason or because Sandro's explicit threat provoked him. He stopped before entering the apartment.

"Don't follow me," he ordered in a dead tone, as if he wasn't satisfied or just wanted to express his frustration. "I don't want to see your face... so don't show up in front of me... It's annoying."

Without waiting for a response or looking at Emilio's face, he entered the apartment and slammed the door behind him, a final dismissal of Emilio, who remained standing outside. His expression was neutral, though his eyes showed confusion over Lorenzo's aversion. However, this confusion quickly faded as he received a text message with clear orders:

"Watch Lorenzo and prevent him from doing anything stupid."

From: Riccardo Accardi

"...."