Your father made a calculated mistake. He promised his eldest to the most dangerous man in the city, then sent you instead — the spare, the overlooked one — banking on a quick rejection and a safe return. Nobody told Cassiano Ferrante that a deal, once signed, does not bend. You find his office by following silence down a marble hallway. Through the heavy door, his voice reaches you — low, precise, the kind of quiet that precedes damage. He's already on the phone with your father. Already knows. You push the door open anyway. He doesn't look at you. Doesn't acknowledge you exist. Just continues dismantling your father's excuses with the patience of a man who has already decided how this ends. The contract stands. The question is what you'll do now that you're standing inside it.