Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

”I don’t know,” Marelli said, and there was genuine frustration in his voice now. ”But something else is happening. Some kind of treatment I’m not providing. Some kind of intervention that’s accelerating his recovery in ways that defy conventional medicine.”

”When did you realize this?” Enzo asked.

”Three weeks ago,” Marelli said. ”I started wondering when the improvement seemed too rapid. But I didn’t want to believe it. I kept thinking maybe my initial assessment was wrong, maybe I’d underestimated his body’s natural healing capacity. But then...”

”But then?” Enzo prompted.

”But then I went to see him for a regular therapy session five days ago,” Marelli said. ”And he was walking. Not with assistance. Not carefully. But walking. Across his study, back and forth, like he’d been doing it for weeks instead of days.”

Enzo felt his pulse quicken.

”Walking,” Enzo repeated. ”Five days ago.”

”I asked him about it,” Marelli continued. ”I asked him what else he was doing for his recovery. What other treatments. And he told me to stop asking questions and just document his progress.”

”Did he say anything else? Anything about who was treating him?”

”No. But...” Marelli hesitated. ”But the night before that therapy session, I saw a man leaving his estate. Someone I didn’t recognize. Someone who didn’t look like a physical therapist or a regular medical professional. He looked like someone else entirely.”

”What did he look like?” Enzo asked.

”Tall. Professional. Carrying a medical case but moving like he wasn’t primarily a medical person. Moving like someone trained in something else.” Marelli shook his head. ”I shouldn’t have noticed. But I was arriving for my therapy session as he was leaving, and there was something about his demeanor that made me pay attention.”

Enzo’s mind was already moving through possibilities.

”Dr. Marelli,” Enzo said carefully. ”Do you suspect that Dante is receiving treatment from someone outside your practice? Someone providing something beyond standard physical therapy?”

Marelli looked directly at Enzo for the first time since the conversation had begun.

”Yes,” he said simply. ”And I think whatever that treatment is, it’s not something that can be explained by conventional medical science.”

***

Enzo left the practice twenty minutes later with a head full of information and a certainty that settled into his bones like concrete.

The Covenant was involved. Not suspiciously. Not theoretically. But factually. Provably. Through medical evidence that Marelli had documented.

Someone was treating Dante with something experimental. Something that accelerated healing in ways that defied normal medicine. Something that only an organization with resources like The Covenant would have access to.

Enzo drove through Rome, his mind running through the implications.

Dimitri had suspected this. Had told him to investigate because his instincts told him that something felt off about Dante.

And Enzo had just confirmed it.

The question now was what Dimitri was going to do with this information.

*** 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

Enzo’s apartment was on the top floor of a building in the centro storico, with a view of the city that made Rome look like something from a painting.

He settled at his desk, opened his laptop, and began organizing his findings.

Dr. Marelli’s assessment: Healing accelerated by 5-10x normal rate.

Impossibility confirmed: Standard therapy cannot account for this progress.

External treatment evident: Someone else is treating Dante.

Timeline established: Started approximately 4 weeks ago, coinciding with Dante’s arrival in Rome.

Unknown visitor documented: Professional demeanor, medical case, non-medical training evident.

Covenant involvement: Highly likely. Resource level suggests only organization of that scale.

Enzo added footnotes and cross-references, building the case methodically. This wasn’t speculation. This was evidence. This was proof that could be presented to Dimitri and understood immediately as the escalation it represented.

Enzo took a breath and reached for his phone.

He pulled up Dimitri’s contact.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a while, before he pressed the dial button.

***

The phone rang twice before Dimitri answered.

”Enzo,” Dimitri said, his voice carrying that edge that meant he was already in business mode. ”Please tell me you have something.”

”I have everything,” Enzo said, not bothering with pleasantries. ”And brother, it’s worse than you thought.”

There was a pause on the line. Enzo could almost hear Dimitri thinking, understanding immediately that this wasn’t a maybe or a theory. This was confirmation of something they’d both suspected but needed proof for.

”Talk to me,” Dimitri said.

”I found Dante’s physician,” Enzo began, settling back in his chair. ”The one doing his physical therapy. Dr. Fabrizio Marelli. I got to him and asked him about Dante’s recovery progress.”

”And?” Dimitri’s voice was absolutely focused now.

”And the doctor confirmed what you suspected. Dante’s recovery is impossible. The medical scans show nerve regeneration and muscle repair happening at roughly five to ten times the normal rate.”

Enzo let that sink in for a moment.

”That’s not possible with standard therapy alone,” Enzo continued. ”The doctor was very clear about that. His initial prognosis was six to eight months for full recovery, three to four months for partial mobility. But Dante is already walking. Full mobility. Five days ago.”

”Walking,” Dimitri repeated, his voice dropping into something colder. ”Five days ago, he was already walking.”

”Yes. And the doctor knows something else is happening. He doesn’t know what, but he knows it’s not from his therapy sessions.”

Dimitri was quiet for a moment. ”How certain is he?”

”Completely. He showed me the medical scans. Documented everything. The progression is undeniable. And he mentioned something else, the night before Dante started showing these dramatic improvements, he saw someone leaving Dante’s estate. Someone with a medical case, professional demeanor, but not acting like a standard medical professional.”

”Description?” Dimitri asked. ”Describe him to me”

”Tall, professional, moving like someone trained in something beyond medicine. The doctor said there was something about his bearing that stood out. Like military training or intelligence work overlaid on medical knowledge.”

Dimitri exhaled slowly.

”That’s Covenant,” Dimitri said flatly. ”That’s exactly how their people move.”