Chapter Nineteen

Frederico Grey Di Grazia;

The air in the room was heavy with the scent of aged whiskey and expensive cigars. I leaned back in my leather armchair, the dim lighting casting sharp shadows across my face. Around the long, polished mahogany table sat the most powerful men in Italy, bankers, media moguls, politicians, and mafia dons.

They weren’t just business associates; they were members of La Confraternita di Potere.

The Brotherhood of Power.

No symbols. No chants. No meaningless rituals. This was the occult of reality: a society where alliances were forged, futures were decided, and enemies were erased without a trace.

I leaned forward, fingers steepled, as the Senator entered. His shoulders were stiff, his smile too forced. He was nervous. He should be.

“Welcome, Senator Alessandro Vittorio,” I said, gesturing to the lone chair in the middle of the room. “Sit.”

He paused, scanning the faces around him. These weren’t just powerful men—they were the kind of men who made governments rise and fall with a phone call. Bankers, media tycoons, crime bosses. Men who didn’t need titles to have influence.

“Sit,” I repeated, sharper this time.

He obeyed, lowering himself into the chair like it might collapse beneath him.

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes locked on his. “You wanted this meeting. Now speak.”

He cleared his throat, adjusting his tie like it was strangling him. “Gentlemen, I’m here to ask for your support in the upcoming presidential elections.”

A low murmur rippled through the room, a mix of quiet laughs and unimpressed whispers. One man, a balding figure with a diamond-encrusted watch, leaned forward. “Do you know how many men have sat in that chair, Senator? How many have asked for the same thing? Tell us—why you?”

Alessandro’s face tightened, but he forced a smile. “Because I’ve delivered for this Council time and again. Every decision I’ve made has been to protect your interests. With your support, I can secure the presidency and ensure our… investments remain protected.”

Another man, sharp-featured with a cold smirk, scoffed. “Words. Promises. That’s all we hear in this room. What can you deliver, Senator? Real power? Or just more excuses?”

Alessandro swallowed hard, his hands gripping the chair’s armrests. “I can deliver anything. Name it, and I’ll make it happen.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his desperation sinking in.

I finally stood, walking slowly around the table. My footsteps echoed in the marble room. “Desperation doesn’t move us, Senator. It makes you look… disposable.”

His breathing quickened, and before anyone could say a word, he slipped out of his chair and dropped to his knees.

“Please,” he said, his voice trembling. “This isn’t just about me. My family, my legacy, my life—everything is on the line. If I don’t win this election, they’ll bury me. They’ll destroy everything I’ve built.”

I stopped in front of him, looking down at the once-proud Senator now groveling on the floor.

“Look at this,” I said, turning to the others. “A man on his knees, begging for power. And he thinks he’s strong enough to lead a country.”

Some of the men laughed quietly. Others nodded, their faces unreadable.

I crouched down, tilting his chin up so he was forced to meet my gaze. “You don’t impress us by begging, Alessandro. You impress us by proving you’re useful. If we give you this, you will belong to us. Every decision you make will come from this room. Do you understand me?”

“I understand,” he whispered.

“Good.” I stood, towering over him. “Get up. Show us you’re more than a sniveling politician.”

He stood shakily, his head bowed. I turned to the others. “Shall we vote?”

The murmurs began, and the votes were cast. It didn’t take long.

I looked back at Alessandro. “The Council has spoken. You have our support—for now. But let me make one thing clear. If you fail us, we won’t just take your power. We’ll erase you, your family, your name. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“Then get out. Prove you’re worth the risk.”

After Senator Alessandro left, my phone rang.

It was the Godfather.

I took a deep breath before answering. “Godfather.”

His voice came through, calm but with authority. “Federico, how did the meeting go? Did the Senator show up?”

I leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers on the armrest. “Yes, Godfather. He came, just like we expected.”

“Did he beg like the others?” The Godfather's voice was cold, like he already knew the answer.

I hesitated for a second before replying. “Yes, he did. Desperate, trying to get our support for the election.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then he asked, “So, did you choose him?”

I could almost feel the weight of his gaze through the phone. “I haven’t made a decision yet. But he’s desperate. He’ll do anything if we push him.”

The Godfather was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. “Good. Keep him on a tight leash, Federico. If we back him, he needs to know he owes us everything. Watch him carefully. One wrong move and he’s out.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Understood, Godfather. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Good. Don’t let him slip. You know how dangerous these people can be when they think they’re in control.”

“I’ll handle it, Godfather. I won’t let you down.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. “I know you won’t, Federico. Just don’t forget who made you who you are.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving me sitting there, the weight of his words sinking in. The Godfather’s trust was a gift, but it came with expectations—ones that I couldn’t afford to fail.

The rest of the meeting with the members had been about small matters, things that didn’t require much thought. But when I got home,