In fact, it shook me to my core.
 
 When Dario took the fall for the family and went to prison four years ago, I swore I would never forgive Fausto.
 
 Little did I know that my uncle’s cowardice was merely the opening verse in a vast epic of betrayal.
 
 IhatedAurelio, yes –
 
 But I had loved Fausto like a second father.
 
 Andhewas the one who had plotted to kill us.
 
 Not only that, he had probably arranged my father’s death, as well.
 
 For that, I wanted to torture him to death myself.
 
 And yet…
 
 Despite all the puzzle pieces seeming to fit…
 
 There was still one missing.
 
 You see, IknewFausto.
 
 I had been his apprentice for over 10 years.
 
 I knew his methods and ways of thinking backwards and forwards.
 
 When he was still Papa’sconsigliere,I could predict how Fausto would respond to any given situation with 99% accuracy.
 
 The events of the last two months?
 
 The Turk and Mezzasalma, specifically?
 
 None of it bore Fausto’s trademark caution.
 
 The Turk and Mezzasalma were bold moves.
 
 Decisive –
 
 Stunning –
 
 Tactically brilliant.
 
 The secret alliance with the Agrellas – the corrupt judges, all of it –
 
 That was classic Fausto.
 
 Devise a trap and waityearsuntil it was sprung.
 
 My uncle always played the long game. That was his primary strategy.
 
 But the Turk and Mezzasalma –
 
 The massacre of the Agrellas –
 
 Those were lightning-fast strikes!
 
 Not only that, but they had multiplelayersto them.