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"Don" Nicollo and his father, Omar, stood up as they bowed their heads respectfully... Nerves grew inside of them as they recalled of the last time they ran into Salvatore.
A light bruise fell under Nicollo's left eye, his lips were stained with a few cuts.
D'Angelo too was in the tense room, sitting in a brown leather chair with a cup of scotch in his hand. His greying hair laid limp on his head and his thick brows fell heavy on top of his eyes, he appeared tired.
"What are you both doing here? The gala is tomorrow night" Salvatore ignored their welcomes as he interrogated the frightened pair.
His tall and muscular frame hid Angel who remained outside of the room. She did not want to enter the awkward scene.
"Some work needed to be finalised with D'Angelo" Omar explained lowly as he pointed to a few files which were scattered across the wooden table.
"Join us, Don" D'Angelo ushered him a glass of scotch and pulled out a draw which was filled with cigars.
Accepting the glass, Salvatore let out a dry chuckle and brought the drink to his lips.
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