FAZER LOGINLuciano’s POV – London, 2006 ( flash back)The world, when I was seven years old, was as close to perfect as I could ever imagine. It was a Saturday in late July, the kind of English summer afternoon where the heat seemed to make time run slower, stretching the hours lazily. I love Saturdays more than any other day of the week. Dad was at home today, and Mom was cooking up a feast again. I tried to help out in the kitchen as much as I could. And help Dad with whatever he needed. It was perfect. Meanwhile, my baby brother, Jose, who was only five, was entirely occupied with a trail of black ants marching across the stone patio. He sat with his chin nearly touching his knees, his small brows furrowed in intense concentration as he traced their path with a fallen twig.I walked up behind him, watching as he was about to move the twig. “Don't move the stick, Jose,” I told him, trying to sound as authoritative as our dad did when he gave his men orders. “You'll confuse their captain,” I
Luciano’s POVI clenched my fist in anger. “Levi,” I muttered. I didn't know who that was, nor had I ever heard of him. But if he really was behind the death of my mom, there'd be hell to pay.Suddenly, one of the colored windows shattered, and the sound of bullets hitting stone and wood filled the hall.“We've got company,” Jose said. I closed the book and put the drives in my pocket. Jose ran off the altar and fired back through the windows. Suddenly, the doors burst inwards. And it wasn't the Maggadino thugs. These guys were geared up to the teeth, from grey camo uniforms to bullet-proof vests and night-vision goggles. These were government agents. “The files, Mr. De Luca,” a voice boomed from the darkness of the entrance. I drew out my pistol. It sounded like the guy from St. Albans. He stood like a shadow in the doorway. “Hand them over, and perhaps I'll let the chapel stay standing.”“I don't give a fuck about the chapel. Raze it to the ground if you want,” I said. “Are you
Luciano’s POVThat night, Jose and I made our way to St. Jude's chapel. Neither of us had ever come here before. In fact, I was so unaware of this place that when Lorenzo said St. Jude, I assumed he was talking about the convent where Mariella grew up. We chose to come here at night so we could reduce the chances of being followed. As we walked through the chapel doors, gently closing them behind us, I turned on my flashlight to take a look around. Judging by how dark and lonely the place was, it was fair to assume there was no one home. “Keep an eye out for any suspicious movement,” I whispered to Jose. “And don't hesitate to kill anyone that might be a government agent or a Maggadino.”“You don't gotta tell me twice,” he responded, cocking his suppressed pistol. “You remember the song, right?” “Yeah, I've got it written here,” I said, bringing out the crumpled tissue from my pocket. I took a look at it and tried humming it in my head, then something struck me. I didn't know if I
Marcello’s POV – London, 1999 (Flashback)Five years had passed since I first set foot in St. Jude's chapel. And in that time, I had buried my father, become the youngest Don in history, and learned the hard way that being a Don wasn't as cool as I thought it was. It wasn't so much about ruling than it was about managing the speed at which people betrayed you. And my father's assassination was proof of that. Tonight, though, the chapel was empty. It was just Lucia and me here, just like it was five years ago when we first set eyes on each other. I leaned against the rails on the loft, while the sound of the organ, which I had spent a small fortune to restore as my first act as Don, echoed and resonated through the hall. Lucia was at the bench, her fingers flying across the keys as she played the first song that drew me to her — the Requiem Anima. Even now, while I stood watching her, five years after we met, I was still as enthralled by her beauty as I was back then. She was glowi
Marcello’s POV – London, 1994 (Flashback)It was a cold, rainy Sunday night, even though ‘rainy’ barely does justice to the freaking monsoon that was pouring over the city. Today was especially horrible for me. I'd accidentally run into the Calabrians at the old market. And now, they were hot on my tail.“Outta my way!” I shoved some guy aside as I ran through the streets, my heart beating frantically. My eyes darted around for where to hide as I heard their footsteps and voices fast approaching. Then I spotted the church — St. Jude's Cathedral. It had been there for years, and I had never once set foot inside. I guess there truly was a first time for everything. I pushed the doors open and walked in, closing them behind me. By the time I got in, I was exhausted, drenched, and panting like I had run a marathon. My silk tie was ruined, soaked by the rain and blood from the cut on my chest. Today certainly wasn't the best of days. The Calabrians had been waiting for me near the old ma
Luciano’s POV“I think we should stop here,” I suggested as we approached where we were going. We were about four blocks away from the facility where Lorenzo was being held. If we got too close, it'd increase the chances of us getting spotted, which wouldn't end well for us. “Alright,” Jose said, pulling over. He parked by the sidewalk, and we both just stared into the distance for like a minute without saying a word. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Then I looked at Jose. “Let's go.”------We snuck into the facility, quietly taking out a few men on the way in. I hadn't been here in a while, and the place smelt of damp concrete. The fact that, as of yesterday, my word was law here and now, I had to sneak through it like a mouse was quite annoying, really. We got to one of the doors needing biometric confirmation, and I put my palm on it for it to scan. And it was flagged as red. “So they really did lock us out?” I muttered.“Apparently,” Jose responded. “Move a
Dante’s POVRumors of Luciano and Mariella being cousins were all over the place. And at first, I expected them to die down. But they didn't. Hell, they seemed to be getting even worse.I recalled my visit to the St. Jude's Convent five years ago, when I was digging into Mariella's past. That was w
Mariella’s POVNo one slept that night. No one could. The mansion was quiet, but it wasn’t the peaceful kind of quiet. It was the weird kind of quiet that seemed to listen back. I sat at the edge of the twins’ bed, watching them. Antonio had insisted the lights stay on — could I blame him? I was s
Luciano’s POVThe hallway was empty, too empty. My footsteps echoed softly against the marble as I moved through the mansion.Behind me, there was silence, and ahead of me, there was also silence, a very unnerving silence. There were no alarms, no gunfire, no signs of forced entry anywhere. And ye
Mariella’s POVFive years ago, I didn’t even know how to hold a gun properly. And now, I was slowly getting used to what it felt like running a criminal empire. Once a nun and now a Donna…Life really was full of surprises. The De Luca mansion had always felt too big for me. Even now, after all th







