Page 9 of Inside the Sun

Anzo’s forty-six. Took over the family business in his twenties.

The official story is that his brothers were killed in a Russian attack, but some reports hint that might not be the whole truth. A few even whisper, very carefully, that Anzo himself might’ve been involved.

By the ninth page of results, I find a niche gossipy blog titledThe Truth Only I Know, all about the Ferro family. It’s not exactly flattering.

One article claims that while nothing was ever proven, it’s basically an open secret: Anzo killed both his brothers. Oneolder, who was expected to be the next capo, and one who walked away from the family after finding his fated mate.

Apparently, Anzo took in the dead brother’s kids, four sons, and raised them himself. Of course, betas can’t legally adopt alphas. Once they hit puberty, there’s a risk they’ll go intoMusth, so they need alpha energy to stabilize. For that reason, their legal guardian on paper was Anzo’s uncle, Alberto Ferro. Each boy lived with Alberto starting at sixteen, during that dangerous period. After about a year, they moved back to Anzo’s estate.

The oldest is Rocco. There’s even a picture. I recognize him instantly as the scarred guy. Not my type. He’s almost thirty now, already Anzo’s underboss and heir apparent.

Next is Luca, twenty-eight. A purple alpha. Acts as Anzo’s bodyguard and caporegime.

The younger two barely show up online. No photos. I manage to get their names in one article: Mauro (26) and Eliano (20). Also alphas. The older one is supposedly mute.

But then something grabs my attention. Big time.

I lean in and whisper to Martin, "Did you know Anzo’s married?"

Martin’s mouth falls open, but not for the reason you’d think.

"You’re reading about him? You’re fucking nuts."

I stick out my tongue and go back to the article.

And that’s not even the last surprise. Summer, the current husband, is actually Anzo’s second. The first, Moon, is no longer part of the Ferro family portrait.

The internet has conflicting info about what happened. Some articles play it vague, hinting that Moon died from an overdose. Others go straight to claiming he and Anzo got divorced. A perfect mess of half-truths and hearsay.

Only this one blog,The Truth Only I Know, quite strongly suggests Moon basically vanished without a trace, and no one’s got the balls to ask what actually happened. Did he piss off Anzo and get… dealt with? Who knows. One thing’s for sure, he’s out of the capo’s life.

And then it gets even better. Turns out, the man Anzo’s with now is Moon’s younger brother. So technically, Anzo married his own brother-in-law?!

The whole thing’s fucked up in a way that feels medically unsafe.

Ignoring Martin’s stabbing gaze, I keep reading.

The family Moon and Summer come from isn’t mafia-connected at all.

Anzo apparently met Moon at some charity event. According to an old post I found onThe Truth Only I Know, their parents are True Mates, both immigrants from Iceland. That catches my attention real quick, but aside from that one sentence, I can’t find jack shit else about them. They seem super private.

Martin’s voice buzzes in my ear like a damn fly.

"Why are you still reading about them? Some sick curiosity? These people have Mayor Ronalds in their pocket. Probably the police chief too. Poking into their business is fucking stupid."

I shrug. Actually, I don’t even know why I’m reading this. It’s not like I give a shit about Anzo. Betas never did it for me. I mean, yeah, there’s a bit of a thrill imagining what it’d be like to meet the big boss of the mob.

Unlike the old-school guys, just plain brutes, he’s kind of famous. Gets invited to fancy galas and shit, because he’s way more polished than his father and grandfather, who were just street thugs.

Anzo’s known for speaking out, loud and proud, against the Beta Activation Program in the media. Being a beta himself who‘made it’, beating out two alpha brothers for the throne, he sees it as his mission to defend beta rights.

Eventually, I get bored of reading about him. And what would I even want with him, really? Gold? I’ve heard mafia guys buy their side pieces houses. For a lot of people, that’d be a dream.

But in truth, I’m not some desperate money-chaser, no matter what I say to people. That whole persona is just a mask I wear, the expensive, high-end boyfriend who only goes for rich heirs and sons of dynasties.

It’s my little game, a way to kill the boredom, the emptiness, the anger.

And I already have quite a bit of money saved up, thanks to my modeling gigs and a buzzing social media account with millions of followers.

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