Sebastian:
My name is Sebastian Greco. I'm 29, hailing from Italy. I stand tall at 1.80 meters with fair skin, sky-blue eyes, and chestnut hair.
An only child, my father raised me alone after my mother abandoned us days following my birth. Back then, my father was not well-off, which prompted her departure – the reason I abhor her, swearing to myself that if ever I crossed paths with her, I'd end her life with my own hands.
Moving on, my father had a university friend, who had earned a 100% scholarship to one of the country's most prestigious institutions. Despite entering such a place, my father remained humble, which made him a target of bullying. Mr. Enzo Rinaldi extended his hand in friendship, and they became close. However, at the time, my mother became pregnant, and well, my father left school, took on work to support my mother, and subsequently lost touch with Mr. Enzo. After my mother left us, my father was jobless, without the means to support a newborn. That night, heart heavy with sorrow, he decided to leave me at an orphanage. He carried me through the cold to the orphanage, but just before he could leave me at its door, a noise startled him. Turning around, he found a nearly dead man. Having studied medicine before abandoning it, my father recognized him.
His friend,
Enzo Rinaldi.
He helped him up and returned home, still holding me. He removed the bullets, cleaned the wounds; the man had passed out from blood loss. Fortuitously my dad was a universal donor and still had enough medical supplies from school to perform a blood transfusion. Upon awakening and realizing his great friend had saved him, Mr. Enzo offered a reward, but my father shared our predicament. Mr. Enzo took us into his home, making my father his right-hand man, and life began to smile upon Dad. Mr. Enzo eventually became the leader of his father's mafia, and that's how I ended up here.
Now the right hand of the most arrogant, haughty person I know – but what more can I say? Alessandro's been my best and only friend. He's a year younger, we grew up together, attended schools together; his father ensured we were in the top institutions and he paid for my education, like a second father to me. That's why I hold him in high regard. From the start, we were best friends, got into trouble together, and he was even supportive when I came out to my dad, encouraging me to do so. Even Mr. Enzo supported me, no judgement, though Alessandro got slightly upset upon learning I was gay. He immediately worried I might be in love with him, but I assured him my brotherly affection was just that, protective and supportive. Eventually, Mr. Enzo handed over the family business to Alessandro, and I became his business partner and right-hand man.
About five years ago, I saw Alessandro truly smitten for the first time, driven to enlist my help to investigate a young man. It was a challenge, as I'd had to locate two other individuals before him with a similar profile, yet I obtained the needed information. That's how the whole chaos began.
I'd never seen him so invested in someone before, and in a fit of jealousy, he coerced the young man into marriage, not wanting to lose him, I presume. Despite hearing him rant about love making us fools, I knew of his deep sensitivity, a side only I was privy to. After three blissful months of marriage that brought constant joy, a bombshell on a business trip led Alessandro to feel betrayed.
Alessandro: Brother, never fall in love. Love is a deadly snare, it weakens us, makes fools of us, friend – don't ever go there.
That sentiment replayed as he downed bottle after bottle of whiskey. His anguish was palpable – I wanted to lash out at his spouse myself, yet restrained myself from jumping to conclusions. The next day, I sought the truth from the source. However, I was shocked to find my foolhardy friend had taken back his longtime lover, installed her in his home as the lady of the house. He pleaded for a chance to explain, which wasn't granted. I don't know what compelled me to side with him, but as days passed, I saw the boy's suffering increase. The doctor revealed five months of pregnancy, yet their marriage was only three months deep – I grasped the source of his distress, recognizing the forced marriage was all on Alessandro, not the boy.
I attempted to rationalize with him, urging him not to be harsh and to listen to the boy's side, to no avail. All I could do was extricate him from the mansion, which became possible when that foolish woman made the blunder of laying a hand on him. I had taken a liking to the boy, pitied his plight, so I offered my aid and helped him flee to a Rinaldi family mansion in the United States, unoccupied and waiting.
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