CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SIX - THE PUPPETEER'S HAND

The cross-examination was brutal. The prosecution's lawyer came at Alessandro with everything he had, twisting his words, trying to trap him in contradictions. But Alessandro held firm, his responses measured and precise. As the day wore on, the strain began to show. During a brief recess, Alessandro found himself in the men's room, splashing cold water on his face. He looked up to see his reflection in the mirror, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of stress etched into his features. The door opened, and to his surprise, Dante walked in. For a moment, the two men stared at each other, the weight of their shared history and current animosity hanging heavy in the air. Dante broke the silence first, his voice low and menacing. "You're fighting a losing battle, Alessandro. Why don't you just give up now? Save yourself the humiliation of a public defeat." Alessandro straightened, meeting Dante's gaze squarely. "You underestimate me, Dante. Always have. I won't stop until