The Setup – Dante’s Test BeginsI knew something was off the moment I walked into Dante’s office.The air was heavier than usual. Thicker. Charged.Dante was leaning against his desk, sipping a glass of whiskey, his expression unreadable.But it wasn’t just him.Rafael—one of Dante’s top men—stood near the window, arms crossed.And at the center of the room?A man. Bound. Beaten.Bleeding.My stomach tightened.I exhaled slowly. “What’s this?”Dante smirked slightly, setting his glass down.“A test,” he murmured.I stiffened. “A test of what?”Dante’s dark eyes locked onto mine.“Your loyalty.”Fuck.The Choice – Proving I’m With HimI glanced back at the man on the floor.He was barely conscious, his face swollen and bloodied, his breaths ragged and uneven.I swallowed hard, my pulse spiking.Dante watched me carefully, his voice smooth.“He was an informant,” he said. “Selling information to our enemies. Almost got me killed last week.”I exhaled sharply, shoving my emotions down.“
The Scene: An Evening That Transforms EverythingThe club was full.Thick and heavy was the smell of whisky and pricey cologne, and smoke curled in the air.In dimly lit nooks, men in fitted suits conversed about money, power, and business.And in the middle of everything?Dante.He was sitting in his usual place, radiating the kind of authority that, when he spoke, silenced entire rooms.But this evening?It was different tonight.Because I was sitting next to him this time.And everyone was watching in this room.The Test: An Open ContestEverything had been going well at the meeting.Until someone chose to put me to the test.Lazzari Marco was his name.Long too ambitious for his own good, he was a haughty, old-money bastard.His eyes darted to me as he sat back in his chair and swirled his drink."Luca, tell me," he thought. "Do you really make decisions, or are you just here to warm Dante's bed?"Suddenly, the air changed.The discussion ended.With a neutral expression, Dante's
The Smoke Still LingersThe smell of blood still clung to me.I stood by the penthouse window, staring out at the city, hands gripping the edge of the table.Dante was behind me.Watching.Waiting.He always knew when my mind was spinning, when I was trying to make sense of the shifting pieces in my head.“You keep thinking like that, you’ll drive yourself insane,” he murmured.I exhaled slowly. “You think I should just forget about it?”Dante stepped closer. His presence always filled a room, always took up space until there was no room to breathe without him.“Not forget,” he said. “Just don’t let it own you.”I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening. “They’re going to come back.”Dante smirked. “They won’t get the chance.”He was so fucking sure.So certain that no one could touch us.Me?I still felt the ghost of that gun against my ribs.The reminder that I had been one second away from being dragged from him.Dante moved behind me, close enough that I could feel his breath agains
A Warning That Comes Too LateThe night was still, the city stretching out below us, glittering with artificial light.Dante was on the phone, voice low, controlled.But I knew better.He was coiled.The kind of calm that only came before a storm.I leaned against the bar, arms crossed, watching him.“Tell me what you need,” I said.He glanced at me, dark eyes unreadable.Then—he ended the call.“We have a problem,” he said.I pushed off the counter. “How bad?”Dante exhaled slowly.“Bad.”And that was when the first gunshot rang out.The AmbushGlass exploded as bullets tore through the penthouse windows.I hit the ground, rolling behind the couch as Dante moved—fast, efficient.Gun in hand, already firing back.The room erupted in chaos.The security team was already moving, but it wasn’t enough—whoever this was, they came prepared.“Stay down!” Dante barked, taking out another shooter.But I wasn’t fucking staying down.I grabbed the gun from the drawer, shoving a clip into place,
A Seat at the TableThe room was heavy with smoke and silence.A dozen men sat around the long marble table, their gazes sharp, assessing.At the head of the table—Dante.And beside him—me.The seat wasn’t just symbolic.It was a statement.I wasn’t just here as his.I was here as his second.The tension was thick. Not everyone in this room agreed with Dante’s choice.And some of them?Some of them were looking for any excuse to test me.Dante leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lazily against his glass of whiskey.Then, he spoke.“Luca handled last night’s attack,” he said, voice calm, casual. “Swiftly. Efficiently.”His gaze flicked across the room.“That tells me he’s ready for more.”Silence.Then—A man across the table scoffed.Nico. Mid-forties. Old-school. One of Dante’s longest-standing allies.And one of the few men who hadn’t fully accepted me yet.“Handled?” Nico mused, tilting his glass. “I heard he hesitated.”I felt Dante’s gaze flick toward me.But he didn’t say
The First ShotI felt the bullet before I heard it.The air shifted—hot, fast.Then—glass exploded.“Down!”A hand slammed into my chest, shoving me back.I hit the floor hard, the scent of whiskey and smoke mixing with the sharp tang of gunpowder.The room was chaos.Shouts. Scraping chairs. The metallic click of guns being drawn.Another shot.I rolled, pressing against the floor, my heart hammering.Then—silence.Not the natural kind.The kind that was waiting.I looked up.Dante was standing.Gun drawn.Expression—murderous.“Find them,” he said, voice low. Lethal.Men scrambled.And me?I exhaled, pushing myself up. My pulse was a drumbeat in my throat.I had just been shot at.Me.Not Dante. Not one of his men.Me.And that meant one thing.Someone wanted to take me off the board.The Aftermath – Dante’s FuryThe house was locked down within minutes.Windows covered. Security doubled. Every man on high alert.But Dante?Dante wasn’t focused on defense.He was focused on revenge.
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
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
POV: LucaNo amount of training prepares you for walking into a place you know you might never leave.The Boston freight yard looked like it hadn’t seen daylight in a decade. Rusted tracks. Chain-link fences curling like dead ivy. Everything coated in soot, fog, and silence.But beneath it?The summit.Umbraion’s table.The heart of the Ember Pact.Dante and I crouched beside a rusted cargo container, hidden in shadow as the drone above fed us intel. Enzo’s people were tracking five vehicles arriving from different directions.Selene’s voice crackled through the comms. “They’re moving into position. 14 confirmed targets. Two more unconfirmed.”Dante whispered to me, low and close. “You still sure?”I looked at him.“No.”He smiled faintly. “Good. That means we’re sane.”We moved in with four others—two ex-military, two loyal soldiers from Dante’s original guard.It was surgical.Or it was supposed to be.We breached through the maintenance hatch on the northeast side. Metal screeched
Luca’s POVThe war room felt different with Selene in it.Not colder. Not warmer. Just… sharper.She stood at the edge of the table, arms crossed, gaze flicking over every face like she was still calculating threat levels. You didn’t spend a decade inside the Hollow Sect and walk out of it clean.But she wasn’t their soldier anymore.She was ours.Dante leaned over the map, voice low and clipped. “Start from the beginning. Everything.”Selene nodded once. “Umbraion’s plan isn’t local anymore. It’s not about turf. It’s not even about power. It’s ideological collapse. He believes if he destabilizes the five strongest criminal systems globally, the rest will fold like dominos.”Enzo stiffened beside me. “You’re saying he’s building a world war for the underworld.”“Yes,” Selene replied. “And New York was his first test city.”I felt the weight of that.We hadn’t just been at war.We’d been part of a trial run.And we’d failed.Dante moved the pawn on the table map to our west district. “
Luca’s POVThe city’s underbelly had always been a network of shadows and whispers, but the Hollow Sect operated in a realm even deeper—where silence was law and identity was fluid. Infiltrating them wasn’t just a mission; it was a descent into anonymity.Dante handed me a dossier, thin and unmarked. Inside, a single photograph: a woman, mid-thirties, eyes like obsidian, expression unreadable. Her name: Selene.“She’s our in,” Dante said. “Disillusioned with Umbraion’s methods. If anyone can be turned, it’s her.”I studied the photo, committing every detail to memory. “What’s her role?”“Recruitment and indoctrination. She shapes minds before they’re broken.”Perfect. If I could reach her, I could understand the Sect’s psyche.The initiation was brutal. Blindfolded, I was led through a labyrinth of corridors, each step echoing with the weight of unseen eyes. Voices murmured in languages I couldn’t place, and the air was thick with incense and something more metallic—blood, perhaps.Th
Luca’s POVThey used to call this part of the city “untouchable.”Our territory. Our ground. Our rules.But today, it looked like a graveyard.The fires from the café had been put out. The buildings were boarded up. The smell of smoke clung to everything like bad history. It had been three days, but no one was coming back. The neighborhood was dead.And it wasn’t just here.It was spreading.We weren’t fighting a turf war anymore.We were fighting a doctrine.A religion. A revolution.And the man behind it was Umbraion.The morning meeting at the safehouse was colder than usual.No jokes. No small talk. Just Enzo, Dante, me, and the quiet hum of the old ventilation system cutting through the silence like a warning.Enzo dropped a folder on the table with enough force to shake my coffee.I opened it. I didn’t speak. I didn’t have to.Page after page—photos, names, intercepted calls, encrypted message fragments.“Confirmed intelligence,” Enzo said. “The ones we thought were just rumors?
Luca’s POVThe city smelled like smoke.Not the kind that drifts from chimneys or burns from cheap street food.This was acrid. Sharp. Angry.It smelled like something had been set on fire, and no one had any intention of putting it out.I stood on the balcony of the east end safehouse, watching black smoke drift into the pale morning sky.Two buildings had burned last night. One belonged to us. The other had innocents inside. Both were ash now.Umbraion had made his move.And now the city was unraveling.I gripped the railing until my knuckles turned white. This wasn’t just about power anymore. This was about war. And worse—this was personal.Hours earlier, I’d gotten the call.“Boss, it’s Paoli,” the voice crackled through the line, shaky, breathless. “They hit the docks. Four men down. Warehouse is gone. They torched it.”I was already halfway dressed. “Who hit it?”A pause.Then: “We don’t know. No insignia. But they moved like military.”Of course they did. Umbraion didn’t build
Luca’s POVThe city didn’t sleep, but it had gone quiet.Not peaceful—tense. Like the air before lightning.It had been three days since our meeting with Umbraion. Three days since we looked a ghost in the eyes and walked away knowing a storm was coming.Dante hadn’t said much since. He was in strategy mode—cold, calculated, untouchable. The part of him that made grown men kneel was wide awake now.I was watching him more than I was watching the streets. Because whatever was coming? He’d be the one to shape it or burn it down.DanteWhen Umbraion left that room, I knew what had to happen.There would be no treaty. No middle ground. He believed in fire—and fire only respected fire in return.I spent the next 72 hours rebuilding my empire from the inside out. I had Matteo’s betrayal on one end and Enzo’s silence on the other. Half my capos were looking to me for strength. The other half were waiting to see if I’d crack.And Luca… he was watching me with a kind of intensity that made it
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