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Chapter Two

last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-07-14 17:25:58

Lucia's POV 

I couldn't breathe. No… it couldn't be. The man who was standing at the entrance of the church was not dead.

He was not gone. He was here.

“Damien...” My whisper was barely audible as I took a step back. My eyes widened, not daring to believe.

Eight years.

It had been eight years, and he was completely unchanged. Black suit, spotless. Not even one wrinkle was on his sharp suit.

Black hair neatly styled, and his dark eyes. The darkest of black, but these eyes were not the ones I'd fallen in love with.

They were cold. Empty. Hollow. Filled with pure hatred.

“Damien, you're…” My words were cut off when another gunshot echoed loudly through the cathedral.

The pain exploded through my shoulder before I noticed that he had shot me.

Damien De Luca shot me.

I cried out and stumbled backwards. My bouquet of flowers slipped out of my fingers and landed beside the bloody and cold body of Adrian.

My white wedding gown was now covered in blood and dirt.

“Ahhh!” I screamed as my eyes burned and blurred. I could see through it to Damien's dark, cold eyes staring directly at me.

He hadn't even blinked.

No change of expression, just his eyes fixed on mine. The eyes that had watched me the same way exactly eight years ago. But that gaze now was filled with more hatred.

Colder.

Darker.

Filled with more rage for each year that passed. My body started shaking, and shivers ran down my spine.

He spoke, without looking at his henchmen, without taking his gaze from my face. His voice was unnerving and calm.

“Kill everyone- babies, children, young and old; no one leaves this room alive.” The church fell silent in an instant.

“No witnesses.” His men raised their guns instantly.

A small smirk played on his lips. “However, leave Alessandro, his wife, and his son alive.” He paused. His gaze bore straight into mine. “And her.”

Chaos then broke out. The screams began, the running, the gunshots ringing.

I, however, could not remove my gaze from the man whom I loved long ago. The man who disappeared and abandoned me eight years ago and came back to haunt me as the monster I created with my betrayal.

His eyes never wavered from mine. Mine never wavered from his. I had entirely forgotten about the bullet hole in my shoulder before 

The blood, pain, it all swam before my eyes and drowned out in the cacophony surrounding us. The shrieks. The shots.

The people were sprinting, the slaps of bodies on the tile floor. Everything blurred; there was just one focal point. Damien.

We stared into each other without blinking. How I had hated those eyes. Those eyes used to be so warm every time they found mine. Their depths used to hold a certain softness.

A gentleness and love; now they held nothing but pure, unadulterated hate. My chest constricted.

Suddenly, all my thoughts began colliding.

Why is he here?

Why does he despise me so much?

What did I do wrong?

He was the one who abandoned me?

No, I did the right thing.

Didn't I?

Why wouldn't he speak?

Why can't he stop staring at me?

The words began to come faster and faster until I couldn't grab hold of any of them. Everything else became almost too much.

Each bullet shot seemed to become louder. The cries were piercing, shrill.

The stench of blood made my gut roil.

My dress was far too cumbersome; the tip of my veil scratched the back of my neck. Even my heartbeat was too loud.

I wanted it all to cease. Bringing my shaking hands up to cover my ears helped little. The world was going too fast for me. My head was going twice as fast for me.

And yet through all the mayhem, my eyes remained locked with his as if he was the only one in the church.

It all came crashing down at once. All sound vanished. With hands still covering my ears and trembling, I allowed them to slide down.

For a split second, the world was too perfect, quiet nothing.

I couldn't find the strength to pull myself out of the space; my eyes remained fixed in place, but I turned them away from Damien anyway. The air struck in my lungs, a tight ball of cold panic.

Bodies, they were everywhere.

Guests who had a smile plastered to their faces a minute ago lay like broken dolls throughout the cathedral.

My niece, aunt, uncle, my cousins, Romano's allies, friends, Moretti families and alliances all died.

The pristine white rose petals that decorated the aisle now looked like blood spatters.

The crystal light shimmered overhead, a glittering mockery of the chaos underneath.

Blood seeped across the floor. Soaking into my wedding dress train and pooling in the marble between the pews. I stood in the very church designed to witness vows of life, but that looked instead like a murder scene. I was a walking tremble.

When I finally forced myself to return my gaze to Damien, he was no longer standing at the door.

He was walking directly towards my family; his henchmen stood in a circle, surrounding my parents and brother with their guns pointed directly at them.

My father knelt with blood pouring down his face after the beating that had been handed to him.

My mother's hair had been knocked from its updo as she struggled with the men holding her. My brother was lying unmoving a few feet from them.

“Long time no see, Alessandro”

My father stared at him. “You motherfucking some of a—” A gunshot cracked through the silence.

My father, mother, and I screamed all at once at the same time.

I couldn't move; I stood there like a statue.

Damien cut my father's words short by shooting him directly in his right eye.

While my father screamed in agony, my mother and I screamed in fear and disbelief.

“This scene looks so familiar, Alessandro”, Damien said, and he pulled another bullet from his left eye.

My head went blank as I stared at blood gushing out of my father's eyes.

Damien handed his gun to one of his men, then used his right eye to pull out my father's shattered eyeball from his eye socket.

I felt like throwing up.

In fact, I did throw up on my dead husband's face.

My father's scream filled the room. I closed my eyes not to watch, but I was pushed harshly to the floor; a hand grabbed my hair.

“Watch, or you're next.”

I forced my eyes open and watched as Damien removed my father's eyeballs from his sockets.

One of his men brought a box, and he put it inside.

With his bloody hands, he took his gun back and put a bullet straight into my father's forehead.

An agonising scream left me as I watched my father's body fall to the ground.

He did the same to my mother and my brother. I watched my family die right in front of my eyes.

Every member of my family was dead. And I’d watched each of them perish before my eyes.

My eyes sought Damien out, and when his eyes landed on me, my breath hitched.

His eyes were void of life.

The void of a man devoid of emotion is not what I meant.

The void of one who'd already been touched from the inside out and left nothing but the hot cinder of hatred behind.

Nothing warm, nothing enraged, nothing merciful, only empty.

His eyes moved from mine to the man who still held me harshly by the hair; then he spoke.

"Incatenatela. Portatela alla villa... e fatele guardare mentre tutto questo brucia.”

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  • Prisoner To The Mafia King   Chapter Forty-seven

    Damien’s POVI returned to the mansion and made my way straight to my office.I had barely reached the door when Primo appeared out of nowhere.“Where did you go?” He asked.I pushed open the door and stepped inside without replying. He followed me in, closing the door behind him.“Do I need to report my whereabouts to you now?” I asked, taking my seat.“Yes, you fucking do.” His words came out sharper than usual. “And you think it’s smart to walk out of this house without a bodyguard after we’ve gotten some evidence that Giovanni is trying to kill you? Just because he’s not able to kill you now doesn’t mean he won’t find another way, Damien.”I looked at Primo for a moment before leaning back in the chair. Then I nodded.There was no use in arguing with Primo because it was pointless. Once he made up his mind he was right about a subject, he could go on and on until the walls of the room were convinced as well.Besides, he wasn’t entirely wrong.“Why are you here?”“Couldn’t find anyt

  • Prisoner To The Mafia King   Chapter Forty-six

    Damien’s POVI had seen love dismantle men who were tougher than both of us. I had seen mighty men lay down their weapons on their enemies because they couldn’t bear to hurt the women they loved.Just like my father and me, we were both foolishly in love with someone. My father loved my mother with all he had, and he became less ruthless when he met my mother. He gave up a lot for her, and my grandfather nearly killed him.That was the first crack in our family. Even though my father was the most ruthless man, he had his weakness, and he failed to show the world how madly in love he was with my mother.And I, I fell in love and got everyone I care about dead.Love made men careless, and it made them predictable. It provided enemies with the formula for its destruction, and that’s what happened to my father and me.And now, Primo and Tiberio. Primo was the kind of fool who would walk into a burning building if Tiberio were trapped inside. He would sacrifice his position, his safety, and

  • Prisoner To The Mafia King   Chapter Forty-five

    Damien’s POVThe last time I’d been to this place was the night my parents were killed—eight god-damned years since I was last in the underground chamber far away from where I lived.This was the only place that didn’t catch fire when the mansion burned to ashes, and it was the same route I escaped with Primo and Tiberio.After my parents’ and siblings’ deaths, I had ordered most underground facilities sealed, especially this one because it was the most painful part of my life.I couldn’t care less about the ghost of my youth. However, some areas were just too valuable to wipe out, and orders were simply too lethal to be left alive.The iron door squealed as I entered. The air reeked of dust, burnt metal and stale cigars. The walk had no color; ceiling lights hung low, casting an even gloom across the king table in the centre of the room.Nothing had changed, not even the bloodstains below the old drainage grate.Then a familiar voice broke the silence. “You finally came to see me.”I

  • Prisoner To The Mafia King   Forty-four

    Lucia’s POVIn the silence of the basement, I had learned the only rule that mattered: I was nothing. I didn’t breathe, move, or think without Giovanni’s permission. I was a dog. A pet. A thing.Then, the screech of the iron door. Light flooded the basement. I flinched and turned my face away, squeezing my eyes shut as the brightness burned them. I had been in darkness for so long that even the small amount of light felt unbearable.I winced, shielding my eyes as the silhouette of Giovanni stepped inside. He didn’t speak at first. He simply walked towards me and kicked the chain attached to my ankle, the metal clanking harshly against the floor.I didn’t move at all. I stayed curled in a fetal position, shivering, staring at the floor. He hadn’t told me to get up. To move, to work out a command, was to invite another blow.A few seconds passed, then he laughed.“Look at you.” His voice was almost affectionate; that was what made it so horrible. He could look at the bruises he had put o

  • Prisoner To The Mafia King   Chapter Forty-three

    Lucia’s POVThe last time I saw the sun was three days ago, or perhaps it had been longer.I didn’t know anymore because time had become meaningless in the darkness. There was no window, no clock, and no sound to tell whether it was morning or night.There was only the cold floor beneath me, the metal walls surrounding me, and the heavy iron chain attached to my ankle.The darkness wasn’t just an absence of light; it was a physical weight. I am existing in a void.The basement was empty, not a single piece of furniture or even a mattress. The metal walls of the basement were freezing, leaching the warmth from my skin until I felt like a piece of ice left to melt on a concrete slab.The iron chain biting into my wrist on the cold ground was my only companion.Oftentimes, I’d question myself whether Giovanni had forgotten I was down here.He simply didn’t care. Three days ago, after he had finished fucking me and using my body, I had made the mistake of trying to get up and wash myself.

  • Prisoner To The Mafia King   Chapter Forty-two

    Damien’s POVI delicately eased myself back into my chair. This was no longer a simple investigation; this was something much bigger and more complex.If Eleanor had been Giovanni’s mother, then Giovanni’s entire identity had been constructed around a secret.But why? Who was his father? And why had someone gone to such extreme lengths to erase him?I rubbed my jaw.“Let’s assume this is the case and that Eleanor is Giovanni’s mother, and she married an Italian man and that she gave birth to Giovanni…” I looked at Primo.“How the hell did Giovanni develop such a strong relationship with the Russians?”Primo didn’t answer immediately, and I continued. “They have hated the Italians for years.”“And they still do,’ Primo said.“Exactly, my point.” I stood again. “So why would they trust Giovanni?” I began pacing. “Why would the Russians listen to him? Why would they allow him to negotiate on their behalf? Why would they change their demands the moment he speaks? Why would they give him ac

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