Renzo didn’t stop.
“What a fucking shame,” he added coldly. “Where’s your conscience? The oath you swore to this family?”
Ciro’s face flushed.
Color rising.
His jaw clenched.
His fists tightened at his sides.
“Careful with your accusations, Renzo,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’re treading dangerous ground.”
The tension snapped tight between them.
But Renzo didn’t back down.
Not even slightly.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out his phone.
Tapped the screen a few times.
Then looked at me.
“I just sent you a video, boss.”
Ciro stiffened immediately.
His posture changed.
Subtle—but noticeable.
He took a half-step forward, as if trying to get a better look.
Trying to intercept.
I raised a hand.
Sharp. Warning.
He froze instantly.
My gaze didn’t leave him.
Then I lowered my hand.
And opened the message.
Pressed play.
The screen flickered to life.
At first—grainy.
Unsteady.
