Chapter 102

The cold, damp air was biting against Vincenzo’s face as he slowly regained consciousness. His head pounded mercilessly, and his vision was a disorienting blur. Blinking several times, he tried to adjust to the dim light filtering through a high, narrow window. The room was barren, save for the old wooden chair to which he was bound. His wrists and ankles were tightly secured with coarse rope, the fibers digging into his skin with every movement. The remnants of last night’s fierce struggle left his body aching, but the burning anger and frustration were what drove him now.

A creaking sound drew his attention. The door to the room swung open, and the echo of footsteps grew louder. The silhouette of a man appeared in the sliver of light, and Vincenzo’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized the figure. Baltazar, his eyes cold and calculating, stood before him. The sight of his half-brother stirred a mixture of rage and resolve within Vincenzo.

Baltazar smirked, crossing his arms and