“It’s Dario...Dario Orlando.”
There was pin-drop silence in the room, and no one dared to open their mouths. All I could do was stare at Christian as he observed the stoned looks on Franco’s and Lucio’s faces, with the only one showing some reaction being Cesca.
“D-dario?” Franco stuttered. Christian pulled out a chair and grabbed Franco’s hand. “Maybe you should sit down, grandpa.”
Franco took the chair from Christian’s hands while Lucio was still unable to say a word. “Dad.” Christian sighed. “Please say something.”
“How?” Lucio whispered, surprised. “How is that possible?”
“So you mean to tell us that our enemy is m-my grandson?” Franco asked. “A-are you sure?”
“Positive.” Christian nodded. “There’s no reason to doubt him, and he’s not our enemy anymore.”
“Dario and his uncle, Mauro, hid behind the Orlando name because Dario actually came here to take what’s his.” Christian twisted the truth a little. “The family business.”
