The Secret Tattoo Code

A villa built in the 17th century amidst the Prosecco vineyards. Milan, Italy.

Only an older man in his seventies sits alone in the dining room with a classic all-cream design.

The long table made of white marble looks quite extensive. A row of classic ivory-carved chairs amounts to about twelve.

However, only one person is there, having breakfast alone without anyone's company. He stares straight ahead with a distant gaze while swirling a stemmed glass containing a quarter of the finest wine produced from his vineyard.

"If only you were still alive, this dining room would be lively with the voices of your children and grandchildren. Surely Richie wouldn't be lonely if his baby brother hadn't become a victim in that accident," murmurs the old man, who then sips his wine.

"Richie is my only hope, but he has disappointed me greatly. He chose a cunning woman behind her grace..." the old man's sentence pauses; he takes in as much oxygen as possible before continuing.

Everything that happe