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60

Faust

I descended the dungeon steps, a familiar calm washing over me as I descended below ground. Maybe it was more detachment than calm, but I appreciated it anyway. Down here, there was no need to hold back. Instead of fighting the demons from my past, I could let them rise up and take over.

Enzo D'Agostino was about to witness this transformation firsthand.

I was almost ten years older than Enzo. He hadn't seen me at my worst when they started calling me il Diavolo. He would learn, though, starting tonight.

Marco, Giulio and several guards were leaning against the stone. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, Giulio watched me attentively, his face tired and skeletal. When did he start smoking? I did not like. Vices made men weak.

I couldn't stop to lecture him now, though. Besides, I had already asked him to give up enough. Maybe I should skip the cigarettes. A tentative truce was called between us while planning to get Francesca back, and I hated to see it broken.

Looking at Marco, I
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