"Don Moretta," Diablo greets him. "Why am I here?" "We both know why you are in my dungeon; let's not play games. You won't fare well, my dear friend."Diablo swallows loudly, a sign of guilt and trepidation rolling through him."Then ask me the question you need answers to... but don't be surprised if you have to drag them out of me. I'm not loyal to you, Moretta. My leader is Rossi.""Yes, well, there's always opportunities to change sides—isn't there? So tell me, what is your boss up to?""Probably eating dinner, dependant on time, of course," he answers."Don't be smart. Didn't your training teach you anything? Your life depends on my mood, and that's directly affected by your willingness to talk. Or would you prefer to die tonight?""Honestly, if you were going to kill me. That would have happened by now. This tells me I'm more important to keep alive because of the information I could give you. So let's play this game together. You sweeten my betrayal, and I'll give you what yo
EmmaThe minutes dragged by as I bid farewell to Niko after our check-in at the hotel. I chose to stay back in the room while Niko ventured out for the evening, his mysterious errand pulling him away.In hindsight, I regret acquiescing to his request without questioning him. If the situation was truly as precarious as he made it out to be, shouldn't he have also considered the potential risks, given that his own face was just as recognisable as mine?Nevertheless, I seized the opportunity to indulge in some much-needed self-care, making use of the provided toiletries to luxuriate in a long bath, wash my hair, and relish a few uninterrupted moments of solitude.I've come to miss the tranquillity that comes with being alone. It allows me to gather my thoughts and gain insight into recent events and my present circumstances. Living with Luca is bustling and hectic, but perhaps I've grown accustomed to being a lone wolf and need time to readjust to being part of a team again.The warm wat
NikoThree Hours Earlier I haven't been to Germany for a good minute—Luca's overactive imagination, of all things turning sour when business deals are concerned, always at play.You see, Auschwitz became our dealer in arms and a few particular orders of women not seven or eight months ago.In the run-up to his takeover, Luca had wanted to ensure he had his very own business deals to weasel out the likes of Emma's father and a few other named Don's.Luca is different; he has always been, and Emma has always been his weakness. I think that's why his father chose to send her away. It was the right choice, perhaps augmented in the wrong manner, but the endgame was for Luca to take his role as underdog seriously. Dimitri and Lucia only decided to have Luca, and though that usually isn't a problem in itself, Luca would say otherwise.He never wanted this life or what was promised to him from the moment of his conception. The mafia way of life has never appealed to him. I say that because
LucaMy father has me work alongside one of his men to dig a hole for this cretin to be buried within. I'm not too happy with the manual labour, but he told me that deciding to take the life means I have to be prepared to bury it also.So I do as he asked, working in silence as I fill myself with hatred for this task I do not wish to be taking part in. Consequences are something I despise, especially his. Anyway, did he indeed mean his pardon for this man?Surely, he couldn't have honestly meant his pardon, not when faced with a man who was supporting another to go against him.Is my father wilting in his old age, or did I, in fact, act out impulsively? Perhaps I did, but then again, someone needs to fucking send a message to Rossi, and it didn't seem as if my father was going to be that person tonight. That's why I killed him, because who better than to kill than his number two?After all, he took Emma away on the single worst day he could, considering she should have vouched herse
I think that's why I march away, heading down the hall and the stairs and out to my car to deposit the bloody finger in a ziplock bag that I just so happen to store in my glove box for moments like these.I ensured to take the one finger with a tattoo on it. It's unmistakably owned by the very person I just buried, and the message I want to get across will certainly be delivered. It is a valid message to put him in his place, which is very much below Emma and me. If Emma weren't in his grips at this very moment, I would take no time to send it tonight, perhaps even hand-deliver it to ensure he knows I claimed his second-in-command's life. But I must ensure she's home safe and sound before I make that imperative move.Staring up at my parents' house, I make a firm decision to assert my independence and ensure that my choices are my own, not my father's. Walking back inside, I enter the front door confidently, fully aware that my mother will be waiting for me. As expected, she stands
Emma I wake in a foul mood; I think because Niko dressed after his shower and then took his pew on the small chair at the desk for the rest of the night. It seems he was just as exasperated. He constantly looked back at me, appraising me before sighing as if he wished he weren't here with me. So I fell asleep, chastising my choice all night, but now that I'm here, I might as well follow through with my instructions. I rise late into the morning, having pretended I was asleep for hours. I don't move an inch, and I most definitely don't roll over to face Niko. And I knew he was awake; after all, he'd been on the phone non-stop all morning. I suppose one might think it's not polite to listen to another's phone calls, but it seems that for most of the morning, he's been talking away to Luca and Mass at home. I only know that because someone asked about me, and he gave a detailed list of everything I've done up until then, so it would only be Luca showing such a need to know my move
My target, Auschwitz, will apparently mingle just before four p.m. He's a man of broad knowledge and is a significant investor in this dinner night for a charitable event for the local hospice. How can a man so dedicated to philanthropy work with someone like my father? The worlds he has his feet in are a far cry from one another. "This monkey suit is not even fitted," Niko moans for the hundredth time about the ill-fitted suit that my father had dropped off this morning. "Did you pack your own? You can change it if you want to..." "You know I didn't, Queen. Jesus, is you man here yet?" He asks, looking around the room as if looking for someone in particular. "I haven't seen him, but then again, we haven't moved from this bar." "I have instructions to keep you safe, Queen, but mingling isn't a safe operation." I frown, isn't it safe? "Oh, he's here," I note as Niko's eyes glaze over for the third time. "Where?" He whispers as he leans in, his hand brushing my lower back wh
LucaI'm livid, so beyond upset that my life has all but halted as I stare down at the photos sent to me from Team B, which is in charge of Emma's care in Germany. Niko, my most trusted confident and number one, not to mention my protector, has his hands all over my wife as he has her caged against a bar.Several people are looking on, caught incidentally by whoever took these photos, exasperating my heartache that Emma has been seen in public with Niko in this manner.Did he not get the message that night I beat Aldo to a bloody mess? Did he not hear the underlying warning I issued to every man on my compound once four of our men lay dead at our feet?I've waited for them to arrive home for an age. Word has it they landed not long ago, and we all know how short of a drive it is from the airstrip to my compound.My veins are laced with the whisky I've consumed in the last few hours. Betrayal is plaguing my every thought, especially where Emma is concerned, considering the lengths I
Luca"Aria, come to Papa?" I request, sitting opposite Emma on the floor of our new lounge in our new home. I bought a new country estate not long ago, in secret and not in either of our names, of course. Our little family is growing by one more, not to mention all of Rossi's former men, women, and children who have moved with us.Yes. Emma is pregnant again, six or so weeks. A little flickering entity is living deep within her tummy once again. I'm excited to watch her swell with this child, as I was with our princess, and I'm equally happy to find out who fate has blessed us with.Aria is nearly ten months old. She's tall like me. Her previous brown hair has turned into long, curly blonde locks like Emma's, and she has her mother's eyes but strangely looks a hell of a lot like me."Go to Papa, Arri," Emma encourages.Watching intently, I hold my hands out for our little girl, and she shakily takes some steps, holding onto her mother's fingers. I've been away these last few days, bu
Anxiety rolls through me, and I start to wonder if anyone would have followed them. If our impenetrable home will fail us. I started spiralling; I swore I might begin hyperventilating before Luca reentered with his parents.Dimitri and Lucia are dressed down in casual clothes that scream normal people. Luca looks far too overdressed compared to the three of us, but his father appraises him with a grin before holding his hand out."Congratulations, son.""Thank you, Father."Lucia moves away from them and comes to me. She smiles kindly and bends her knee beside me on the sofa."Congratulations, Emma. How are you?" she asks me, her hand coming out to stroke my hair away from my face before she holds my chin much as she has done a few times before."Tired, overwhelmed, wired. That's hard to answer.""Birth does that to you; the drop in hormones is worse than the pregnancy itself. How have you been getting along? Is there anything you need?" She litters me with questions, surprising me. I
EmmaIntroducing Aria to our men—our family was exhausting, but at least we could keep her birth a secret from the outside world with them.Luca and I have been in this quiet, subdued, and fabulous bubble, but just as with everything, Dimitri is not out of the know. The plan was to call him the day after the birth, but we put it off and then again the next day and the one after that. It turns out he made the first move. He called just this morning, six days after her birth, to ask why we were keeping his grandchild away from him and Lucia and if we knew there were protocols in place to pass over the information. The call was scary; I watched the version of Luca, who had been around me for days, turn into the man I came home to over a year ago. Honestly, we didn't call to prevent the rest of the world from knowing. There's this deep-rooted need to protect my little girl; no, that's not right. It's not a need; it's a must. In answer to his question, we knew we would only need to mak
I watch as he grabs Aria's blanket, the little changing bag and a small teddy Anna gifted Aria."Let's get comfortable in the lounge before they come?" He asks, holding a hand out to lead me from the bed.I nod, cradling Aria closer before I stand and let Luca walk us down to the lounge we never use. The sofa isn't as comfortable as the bed; it's cold and far too firm, but I make myself as comfortable as I can while Aria continues to feed. She soon falls asleep, so I move her to lay over my shoulder to burp her. That's when Luca leaves, obviously having word that his parents are here.Anxiety rolls through me, and I start to wonder if anyone would have followed them. If our impenetrable home will fail us. I started spiralling; I swore I might begin hyperventilating before Luca reentered with his parents.Dimitri and Lucia are dressed down in casual clothes that scream normal people. Luca looks far too overdressed compared to the three of us, but his father appraises him with a grin b
EmmaIntroducing Aria to our men—our family was exhausting, but at least we could keep her birth a secret from the outside world with them.Luca and I have been in this quiet, subdued, and fabulous bubble, but just as with everything, Dimitri is not out of the know. The plan was to call him the day after the birth, but we put it off and then again the next day and the one after that. It turns out he made the first move. He called just this morning, six days after her birth, to ask why we were keeping his grandchild away from him and Lucia and if we knew there were protocols in place to pass over the information. The call was scary; I watched the version of Luca, who had been around me for days, turn into the man I came home to over a year ago. Honestly, we didn't call to prevent the rest of the world from knowing. There's this deep-rooted need to protect my little girl; no, that's not right. It's not a need; it's a must. In answer to his question, we knew we would only need to mak
"Take your T-shirt off?" I request with a beaming smile that sends tingles through my veins at the thought of gifting this invaluable gift of life to Luca after so long."O—Kay," he replies with confusion but does it anyway. His shirt goes over his head, and he dumps it with his shoes on the floor. I lay our daughter, who is just as naked as his chest, on him. The doctor raved about skin-to-skin, so surely that extends to her father, too? I gently press her head sideways so she can breathe, and I watch with amusement as Luca holds his hands out as if he thinks he might harm her if he moves. "Here," I smile, moving his hands to cradle her before I cover the pair of them with the blanket around my legs.It's an instant connection for him, his eyes close as he presses his back into the lifted mattress, and he leans down to smell our little girl's head. A sound somewhere between a moan and a groan exits his mouth, and tears fall through his closed eyes."Congratulations, Papa," I whisper
EmmaAs I look down into my baby's eyes, I forget all the hardship her labour created only moments ago. She has the deepest shade of mahogany brown hair that covers her head and curls by her ears, yet her eyes seem somewhat light—perhaps they'll be a shade of blue like mine or a deep shade of marbled grey.Her looks remarkably resemble both of ours, yet it seems she favours her father more. It's in her straight nose, sharp jawline, and chin that resembles his. I know this might change; in fact, there's a sure certainty that my daughter will evolve rapidly, but right now, I couldn't be happier to meet her, especially to have her resemble her father in such ways. My world re-centres around her, making everything else seem dim in comparison to her. I've never felt love like this. It pulls my insides as something imaginary envelopes the pair of us. It feels like a bubble, one that's missing one person—the very man waiting to meet his daughter properly. "Hello, my darling," I hum quietly
The petite blonde, blue-eyed, screaming doll had me hooked. She held my finger and soon babbled up at me as if her world had already revolved around me. Christ, I hope our daughter looks like her mother and equally looks up to me like that. What I'm trying to describe is how fate had me fall for her even then when she was a newborn baby, and my love has lasted this long.Emma turns to me, looking up as she has on so many occasions before. She seeks my gaze on the balcony, and I hold hers for a long moment. A smile spreads on her face, and she summons me, taking my breath away.She's forgiven me yet again, not that I deserve her forgiveness after treating her so demeaningly. Holding one finger up, I back away, turning into the bedroom before floating toward her. And then through the house and down the hall. I walk through the open patio doors and down the steps into the garden and stalk towards her fervently. Her hand is outstretched at the very moment I grab her waist, pulling her
Six months later LucaAs I stare at Emma sitting in our garden with her stomach round and protruding, one hand rubbing it absently, I think over the events that led up to this moment.Things haven't always been easy for us, far from.Falling in love with her at such a young age gave my father the weakness he needed to exploit to keep me in check. He had his gun trained on her one too many times with only our knowledge to make me do as he wished. Taking her away from me made me thicken my skin; that was the most suitable decision he ever made and probably will ever make regarding me and my future. Without that singular choice, I don't know if I would ever have become the man everyone fears. The loss of Emma was monumental in creating the drive I lacked beforehand. I suppose I should be thankful to my father; without his input, Emma's and my child's safety would be at risk more than it is.The sun shines down on her as if telling me to watch my beautiful wife as she walks alongside t