After receiving the letter, I immediately returned to my room and donned my assassin robes.
And sweet merciful Da Vinci… they looked good.
The robes were coming together—layers of pale ivory and battle-worn brown, adorned with subtle silver embroidery and hidden pockets perfectly placed. The bracers alone took half a day, each one carved with symbols I'd guided Rosa through from memory. The half-cape hung with the kind of dramatic weight that made even a casual shoulder turn look like a damn cinematic cutscene.
And the hood…
That hood was a masterpiece. Deep, pointed, and shadowed just enough to obscure my eyes. It wasn't just a hood—it was an attitude. I stared at myself in the mirror, half-expecting dramatic background music to start playing.
"God, I look like I'm about to walk into a Ubisoft trailer," I muttered, tilting my head slightly for full effect. "If I don't get a slow-motion entrance today, I'm suing the Animus."
With that incredibly humble thought, I slipped the hidden blade onto my wrist. The leather straps tightened like a second skin, and the blade itself hissed softly as it extended. The familiar click brought a twisted sort of comfort. In this world, confidence wasn't a personality trait—it was armor.
I slid the letter into one of the inner pockets and stepped outside.
The streets of Florence were bustling with mid-morning life. Vendors shouted over one another, children darted through narrow alleys, and nobles strolled in blissful ignorance of the storm slowly building around them. I moved quickly, sticking to the shadows and back alleys where the robes did most of the work. With Silent Step, I was nearly inaudible—even the nosy pigeons barely flinched.
Halfway to the drop point, I caught sight of a familiar name being shouted in the market square.
"Vieri de' Pazzi! Il giovane signore is holding court at the piazza again!"
Oh great. Vieri. Florence's official MVP of Punchable Faces. The man practically breathed arrogance and bathed in the tears of peasants.
I ducked behind a fruit cart, eyeing the gathering crowd as Vieri strutted into view with all the grace of a goose in heat. His cape was a shade too long, his hair too perfectly greased back, and his face... well, his face screamed "I peaked in middle school."
He was surrounded by guards, of course—because courage, much like fashion sense, was not his strong suit.
"People of Florence!" he shouted, arms raised like a discount prophet. "I bring news from the Signoria! News of traitors—those who would see our great city fall into chaos!"
Right. Subtlety clearly skipped the Pazzi family gene pool.
I pulled my hood down further and crept closer, blending in with a group of nuns who were—bless their hearts—too old to notice the young assassin in their ranks. Vieri continued his grand monologue, waving a rolled scroll and using words he probably didn't even understand.
"In particular," he declared, "the Auditore family! Their fall from grace is all but assured!"
I clenched my jaw.
If only I had one more skill point. Disarm plus Hidden Blade would've made Vieri a memory.
But no. Not yet. Timing mattered. I couldn't blow our cover just because a walking ego with legs decided to flap his gums.
Then, in a moment that had YouTube edit written all over it, Vieri turned… and our eyes met.
Well—his eyes met shadow. But still. I felt it. That moment of dramatic tension. If this was an anime, thunder would've rolled in the distance.
He squinted. "You there… boy in the hood!"
Ah, crap.
A dozen guards turned at once. My assassin instincts flared like a Windows 98 startup screen.
"HALT!"
"No thanks," I said under my breath, already sprinting.
I darted through the market, leaping over crates and barrels as guards scrambled after me. Predator Instincts kicked in—everything slowed just enough. A guard moved to intercept from the left—I pivoted, slid under a fish cart, and came up running.
"I just wanted to deliver a letter, dammit!" I hissed.
The alley came into view. Marco should be there. The backup plan? Run like my life depended on it. Because it did.
A rooftop to my right. I jumped—Climbing Agility cutting the effort in half—and scaled the wall in seconds. A guard tried to follow.
Tried.
I turned and gave him a little wink before disappearing over the rooftop.
By the time I dropped into the alley, Marco was already waiting. A wiry young man with sharp eyes and quicker hands.
"You Marco?" I asked, panting slightly.
"You Giovanni's son?"
What is this? A parrot's response?
I nodded, glancing over my shoulder to make sure the guards weren't tailing me. "Yeah, I'm Giovanni's son. Got a letter for you. Deliver it to La Volpe."
Marco's eyes sharpened as I handed him the letter. He glanced at the seal, then at me. "You got it all figured out, huh? I'll take it to him. You did your part. Now, don't get caught."
"Not planning on it," I muttered, adjusting my hood.
Marco looked like he wanted to say more, but he just gave a quick nod and disappeared into the maze of Florence's narrow alleys.
I took a deep breath and checked the street behind me once more, making sure no guards had caught up. The adrenaline from the chase still buzzed through me. Running through the market, flipping over crates, dodging fish carts—why did that remind me of every parkour game I'd ever played? I could almost hear the soundtrack of Assassin's Creed playing in my head.
But reality was far less forgiving than any game I'd played.
I needed to keep my head down and stay focused. La Volpe would be the key to surviving the storm coming our way. The Templars wouldn't back down, and neither would the Pazzi family. A full-blown war was brewing, and the Auditore family was caught right in the middle of it.
As I began to retrace my steps back to the family estate, I couldn't shake the thought of Vieri de' Pazzi. The idiot was certainly asking for trouble. He had no idea what he was stirring up, but that wouldn't stop him from running his mouth.
I pulled my hood up again, blending in with the crowd as I moved quickly toward the home. My heart was still racing, but the taste of victory was sweet. I'd completed the task, and now, the next phase would begin.
I only hoped Marco delivered the message on time. Because the moment La Volpe got involved, everything was going to get a lot more interesting.
***
The rest of the day passed with an almost eerie normalcy. The sun hovered lazily in the sky, casting its golden light over the rooftops of Florence. People went about their business, oblivious to the storm of tension swirling beneath the surface. The city, like a perfectly staged set for a play, continued its performance while I was stuck in the wings, awaiting my cue.
Of course, I had plenty to keep me busy.
I returned to the estate, making sure to stick to the shadows like an overzealous cosplay enthusiast. There was no way I was letting anyone spot me now that I'd gone full Assassin. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past Vieri to start a manhunt for me in the middle of the day. The man had the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.
I slipped into the family home, still a little out of breath from the earlier chase. The adrenaline was wearing off, and my body was starting to remind me that parkour isn't as glamorous as it looks in the games. I swore I could feel my calves cramping from all the climbing. If I were to rate my athleticism, I'd give it a solid 7/10. Not bad for someone who spent his prior life in the digital world and on a couch, but definitely room for improvement.
As I crossed the threshold of the estate, the first thing I noticed was the complete lack of chaos. This was honestly the calm before the storm.
Federico was just behind Ezio as he nodded at me as if saying, 'They have safely left the city.'
Ezio trudged into the hallway like he'd lost a fight with a brick wall. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he had. The boy had the uncanny ability to attract trouble the way cats attract people who are allergic to them.
I raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your face? Did Florence slap you for being too pretty again?"
He grunted. "Ran into Vieri's men."
"Your fists or your face?"
Federico chuckled from behind him. "Bit of both. But don't worry. They won't be bothering anyone for a while."
I gave him a nod—the kind of solemn, Assassin-y nod that says "good job beating up some lackeys, now let's save the world." I wasn't sure how Federico did it, but he had a way of putting a dent in anyone who tried to cross him. Something about his smirk just screamed 'I'm about to make your day very, very bad.'
Ezio, on the other hand, looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backward. "I swear, every time I try to leave the house, I end up tangled in some drama. Why is it always me?"
I couldn't help but laugh under my breath. Poor Ezio had no idea what was coming his way—he was still blissfully unaware of the crazy conspiracy that was about to unfold around him. I wondered if he'd ever figure it out or if I'd have to step in to set him straight.
"Welcome to adulthood, Ezio," I said with a grin, slapping him on the back with far too much enthusiasm. He stumbled forward but managed to catch himself.
"Yeah, I think I'll pass on it for now," he muttered, rubbing his sore shoulder. "This whole 'family drama' thing is a bit much for me."
"Drama is just the appetizer, Fratello," I said, keeping my voice light as I walked past him. "The real fun starts when you meet the Templars."
He blinked. "Templars? Is that a new group of troublemakers I should be concerned about?"
Federico shot me a look, clearly sensing I was pushing the conversation in dangerous waters. I shot him a 'Don't worry about it' look and changed the subject.
"Anyway," I began, clearing my throat, "You'll be getting more visitors soon. I've made arrangements. Mother, Claudia, and Petruccio are safely on their way to Monteriggioni. They're with Uncle Mario for the time being."
Ezio's brow furrowed, confusion written all over his face. "But why? What's going on? Why not just stay here?"
I leaned in, speaking in a tone I knew would make him listen. "Because, Ezio, Florence is about to get very interesting. People like Vieri de' Pazzi don't just talk—when they shout, they make things happen. And unfortunately for us, those things usually involve knives and betrayal."
Ezio looked like he wanted to argue, but something in my expression must've convinced him that this was no time for his usual bravado. He nodded slowly, accepting the information, though still clearly uneasy.
***
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