~ Massimo ~
The smoke in the room was getting thicker, a grey haze swirling around the dim yellow glow of the lamps as the debate dragged on.
I stood behind the couch, my knuckles white as I gripped the glass of whiskey, listening to my family pick apart the deaths of thirty men like they were discussing a business merger.
Aurelio leaned back, crossing his legs as he exhaled a long cloud of cigar smoke.
"I don't think it's the Yakuza," he said, his voice smooth and analytical. "It doesn't make sense for them to be responsible for a massacre like this."
My father shifted slightly in his chair, his eyes cutting through the smoke to land on Aurelio. "Why do you think so?"
"I don't see a single reason why they would risk a massacre like this," Aurelio replied, shaking his head. "It's been over a couple of years since I heard about the Yakuza causing real trouble or getting involved in a full-scale war.
