Luca’s POVThe city pulsed with unease. After our confrontation with Enzo, a name lingered in the air like a specter: the Sovereign. Whispers of a new power rising in the underworld had reached us, but details were scarce.I sat in Dante’s study, sifting through intelligence reports. Patterns emerged—territories changing hands without bloodshed, alliances shifting silently. It was as if an invisible hand orchestrated the chaos, guiding events from the shadows.DanteLuca’s observations mirrored my own. The Sovereign was not just a myth; they were real and methodical. Their influence seeped into every corner of our world, challenging the very foundation of our power.I summoned our most trusted informants, demanding answers. One name surfaced repeatedly: Umbraion. A figure cloaked in mystery, known for manipulating events without ever stepping into the light.LucaThe name Umbraion sent chills down my spine. Legends spoke of a man who could bend wills and reshape empires with a whisper
The world of crime is based on trust.And tonight, I was going to sell the biggest lie of my life.The club reverberated with deep bass, shaking the floor beneath my boots. Strobe lights flashed across bodies pressed together on the dance floor, drenched in sin and sweat. From the VIP lounge above, I had a perfect view of the chaos below—ideal for a king like Dante Valenci, who watches over his kingdom of crime.My target.As I stepped through security and into the lion's den, I adjusted the cuffs of my suit and maintained a cool expression. Luca Romano, the identity I would spent months creating, was ready to enter the mafia world.Six months prior."Cross, I want him in chains."The director's tone was cold as he slid a thick file across the table. I flipped it open, revealing photo after photo of Dante Valenci—mid-thirties, tall, fighter-like physique. Sharp Italian features, with black ink curling up his forearms. A man dressed in power. A man whose name instilled fear in every cr
Like a predator on the hunt, the Maserati sliced through the night as the city passed in a blur of neon and shadows. As I drove, I felt the weight of Dante's eyes on me and kept my hands steady on the wheel.His voice was smooth and tinged with curiosity as he said, "You are quiet."I grinned while continuing to focus on the road. "Just concentrated. Did not you say you wanted to put me to the test?Dark and amused, Dante gave a low laugh. "All right. You pick things up quickly.There was something unsaid in the thick air of the car. I sensed a quiet game, a controlled exchange of power between us. I had to keep up with him.We arrived at an unmarked warehouse on the outskirts of the city, with two men wearing fitted suits with covert holsters under their jackets watching over the entrance. Beyond those doors was a secret world, a world for the untouchables, the elite, and the corrupt.Dante approached me as I got out of the car, fiddling with the cuff of his black dress shirt. The da
The way Dante touched me carried a certain element of danger.The way a predator weighs its prey before determining whether to eat it whole is different from how a man holds a weapon or a threat.Long after he had released his grip, I could still feel the warmth of his fingers against my skin. An unspoken assertion. A caution. A game.I was still playing, too.The Road BackThe only sound between us as the Maserati sliced through the deserted city streets was the engine's low purr. My thoughts were sharp, and I kept my hands steady on the wheel.Dante sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching the streetlights go by with his head cocked to the side. His inked forearms were shadowed by the dim glow, which cut sharp angles into his face. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing only a small portion of his collarbone.I made myself pay attention to the road. Not him. Never him.There was a long pause before Dante finally said anything. "You are liked by Levin.""That counts as one of us
My hands were covered in blood that would not go away.I stood in front of the sink, watching the crimson swirl down the drain, disappearing as if it had never existed. However, I could still feel the gun's weight and the warmth of the man's blood as it spattered my knuckles.The trigger had been pulled by me. I had gone too far.Even though the water was extremely hot, I did not refuse it. I allowed it to burn. Allow it to burn into my flesh as though it would undo what I had done.The bathroom door clicked open behind me.I did not look around. did not need to. I recognized the person.Valenci, Dante.At first, he watched me while leaning against the doorframe without saying anything. His cologne—smoke, whiskey, something darkly masculine—mixed with the smell of steam and blood to fill the room with his presence."You paused," he said at last.I held onto the sink's edge. "But I did it nonetheless."Dante took a slow, methodical step forward. Indeed. You did.With a sharp exhale, I
The promise of a storm hung heavy in the air outside.As we left the restaurant, the tension from Montoya's words was still hanging between us like a loaded gun, and I could smell it in the air. With his hands in his pockets, Dante walked silently next to me. Even though I could not read his expression, I knew he was still going over everything in his head.For what duration have you two been having sex?I had brushed it off. Both of us had.However, the question's weight continued to cling to the area between us like a simmering, low heat that neither of us had managed to put out.I told myself it was just in my head.I assured myself that I was in charge.I made a lot of promises to myself.Then the shots began to fly.AmbushIt happened very quickly.We were heading toward Dante's car across the parking lot one moment. Then the night was split by the piercing crack of gunfire."Go down!" Dante growled and gave me a hard shove. A bullet flew by my ear and lodged itself in the car do
The safehouse was quiet.Too silent.Instead of sleeping, I sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at the door to the room where Dante had vanished hours before. His hands were still burning my skin.This was incorrect. All of it.The task. The decisions I had made. how he was making me lose myself.But I was unable to stop.An Unexpected AttackIt was a faint sound at first. a scrape. A hint of motion.Then there was gunfire.Before I even considered it, I was on the move, getting my gun from the nightstand and rolling off the bed. More pictures. Nearer. The sound of booted footsteps filled the safehouse as the front door slammed open.Fuck.With my gun in hand, I stormed out of the bedroom.Dante was already in the living room with his own weapon drawn and only partially dressed. He appeared composed. Too quiet.His eyes then shifted to me. Breathing heavily, shirtless, barefoot.His expression changed for a moment.Something gloomy. There was more to it than the ambush.However, that
Just before dawn, the storm struck.I could hear the distant roll of thunder rattling the walls and the rain hammering against the cabin roof. The roads, the air, the whole fucking world—it was the kind of storm that engulfed everything.And he and I were both confined here.I turned over on my back and gazed up at the ceiling. There had never been any sleep. Not after the events of the previous evening. Not after I would been touched by his hands.I was still feeling it.His fingers slowly pressed against my shirt as he unbuttoned it. His knuckles brushing against my throat. The way his eyes met mine.As if he was anticipating something.As if he desired something.I clenched my jaw and pushed the idea out of my mind. It had no significance.Dante Valenci could have no significance.A Battle Is Awaiting in the MorningDante was already awake when I got out of bed.With his back to me, he stood by the window and observed the rain hitting the glass. His shirt was unbuttoned once more,
Luca’s POVThe city pulsed with unease. After our confrontation with Enzo, a name lingered in the air like a specter: the Sovereign. Whispers of a new power rising in the underworld had reached us, but details were scarce.I sat in Dante’s study, sifting through intelligence reports. Patterns emerged—territories changing hands without bloodshed, alliances shifting silently. It was as if an invisible hand orchestrated the chaos, guiding events from the shadows.DanteLuca’s observations mirrored my own. The Sovereign was not just a myth; they were real and methodical. Their influence seeped into every corner of our world, challenging the very foundation of our power.I summoned our most trusted informants, demanding answers. One name surfaced repeatedly: Umbraion. A figure cloaked in mystery, known for manipulating events without ever stepping into the light.LucaThe name Umbraion sent chills down my spine. Legends spoke of a man who could bend wills and reshape empires with a whisper
Luca’s POVThe morning sun cast long shadows across the marble floors of Dante’s penthouse. I stood by the window, watching the city awaken, yet my mind was elsewhere. Matteo’s betrayal had left a scar, not just on our operations, but on our trust.Dante entered the room, his presence commanding as always. He handed me a cup of espresso, his eyes searching mine.“We need to confront Enzo,” he said, breaking the silence.I nodded, the weight of the decision settling in. Enzo had been an ally, a mentor even. But recent events cast doubt on his intentions.DanteEnzo’s estate was a fortress, both in structure and secrecy. As we approached, the guards recognized us, granting entry without question. Inside, the atmosphere was tense, the usual warmth replaced by a palpable unease.Enzo greeted us in his study, a room adorned with relics of his past victories. He offered a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.“Dante, Luca. To what do I owe this visit?”I got straight to the point. “Matteo be
Luca’s POVI wasn’t sure when I stopped sleeping with both eyes closed.Maybe it was the night I slit Salvatore’s throat, or maybe it was when Dante called me his empire. But I knew what that really meant.Empires burn.I woke to silence.Not peaceful.Tense.Even before I sat up, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it—like pressure in the air before a storm. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand, not because I thought someone had breached the penthouse, but because paranoia is survival in this world.When I stepped into the living room, Matteo was there.Alone.Too quiet.I didn’t speak. Neither did he.He stood, staring out at the city skyline, one hand holding a lit cigarette, the other tucked into his jacket like he was hiding something.Maybe regret.Or maybe a weapon.I waited.He finally said, “You think you understand this world now.”My jaw tightened.“I understand it better than you think.”He exhaled smoke, still not looking at me. “Then you know not everyone is happy w
The MessageThe body arrived at sunrise.Luca was still asleep when Matteo called.Dante answered on the first ring.“You need to see this.”The weight in Matteo’s voice sent ice through Dante’s veins.Thirty minutes later, they were at the docks.A shipping container had been left open, the salty morning air carrying the scent of blood.Inside, a single chair sat in the middle of the steel room.And tied to it—The man who had tried to kill Luca.Except now, he was dead.His throat had been slit, his hands nailed to the armrests.Blood soaked the floor beneath him, dark and glistening in the dim light.Matteo handed Dante a note.No signature. No insignia. Just a single sentence.“You’re not untouchable, Romano.”Dante clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around the paper.Whoever had sent this wasn’t just making a move.They were declaring war.Luca Wakes to ChaosLuca knew something was wrong the second he opened his eyes.Dante was standing by the window, his phone to his ear, voi
A False Sense of PeaceFor the first time in days, the tension had eased.Dante had called an emergency meeting with the capos, leaving me at the penthouse with orders to stay put.I didn’t argue.I needed space.Time to breathe.To figure out if I was really as trapped as Dante made me feel.But the thing about power?It never lets you rest.The HitThe first sign something was wrong was the silence.Dante’s penthouse was never truly quiet. His men were always around, stationed near the entrances, patrolling the halls.But tonight, there was nothing.The hair on the back of my neck stood up.I set my drink down, my mind already cataloging escape routes, weapons, weaknesses.Then—The lights went out.I moved instantly.The gun Dante had given me was in my hand before I even had time to think.A second later, the glass balcony doors shattered.I ducked behind the couch, heart hammering, gun raised.A shadow moved through the darkness. Silent. Trained.Not a random thug.A professional
The world doesn’t stop after you take a life.That’s the first thing I learned.I had expected something to shift. Something to break.But the city kept moving. The sky didn’t darken. The ground didn’t split open beneath my feet.I had walked out of that warehouse with blood on my hands, and the world had kept going.And that was the part that scared me the most.The Weight of SilenceThe penthouse was quiet.Dante had left early, something about a meeting with the capos. He hadn’t said much before he left—just a lingering touch, a look that told me he knew I wasn’t okay.But he hadn’t asked.Dante never asked.And I never told him.I sat at the bar, staring at the untouched glass of whiskey in front of me.I had killed before. But this wasn’t like before.This time, I had done it for power.For a place at Dante’s side.For us.But was there even an us anymore?Or was I just a part of his empire now—another piece on the board?A Ghost in the MirrorI got up, walking into the bathroom.
The car ride was silent.Dante sat beside me in the backseat, one hand resting against the leather seat, the other holding a cigarette between his fingers. The faint glow of the ember cast shadows across his face.Outside, the city blurred past us—neon lights, dark streets, empty sidewalks.Everything felt too quiet.Too still.The scent of blood still clung to my skin, even after I’d wiped my hands clean. My shirt had specks of it, and the memory of Salvatore’s last breath still echoed in my mind.I had killed before. But this was different.This was power.This was becoming something I couldn’t walk away from.Dante exhaled smoke, his gaze fixed out the window. He hadn’t spoken since we left the warehouse.I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.Not yet.Not when my pulse was still pounding from the weight of everything that had just happened.The Penthouse: Only UsThe moment we stepped inside Dante’s penthouse, the world outside disappeared.The city was loud. The business was brutal. B
The Moment of DecisionSalvatore sat frozen in his chair.The weight of what was happening finally settling in.Dante stood beside me, silent. Waiting.This was my call.I could feel every set of eyes on me. Our men. His men. The people who had doubted me, underestimated me, assumed I was just Dante’s pretty little second-in-command.This was my chance to show them exactly who I was.Exactly what I was capable of.I exhaled slowly.Then, I turned to one of our men standing by the door.“Knife.”A blade was handed to me within seconds.Salvatore tensed.I turned the knife over in my palm, feeling the weight of it. Considering.Then, I looked at him.“You made a mistake,” I said calmly.He swallowed. “Luca—”I slammed the blade into his hand.The sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone filled the room.Salvatore’s scream echoed.I twisted the knife slowly.“I’m not interested in your excuses.”The WarningBlood pooled on the table.Salvatore gasped, face pale.I leaned in, my voic
The CaptiveThe man was tied to the chair.Wrists bound, head slumped forward, breathing ragged.He wasn’t dead.Not yet.But he’d wish he was before we were done.Dante stood in front of him, rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt.There was no rush.Pain was always more effective when it took its time.“Wake him up,” Dante said.I stepped forward.My knuckles connected with his jaw. Hard.His head snapped to the side, a groan escaping his lips.Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Bleary. Bloodshot.And when he finally focused?He saw me.His expression flickered—surprise, then something darker.He wasn’t afraid of me.Not yet.But he would be.Who Sent the Hit?Dante crouched in front of him, elbows resting on his knees.“Let’s not waste time.”His voice was calm. Too calm.“Who ordered the hit?”The man exhaled sharply. A laugh—low, broken.“You think I’ll tell you?” His voice was hoarse.Dante smiled. Slow. Dangerous.“You will.”He stood, adjusting his cuffs, before looking