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Marco De Luca woke up from sleep and looked around him, he sighed disappointedly went he saw the two ladies that laid naked beside him. He was already growing annoyed at the sight of their porcelain bodies lying peacefully beside him. Yes, the sex was good but he needed them out of his penthouse immediately, so he rudely shook them awake. They grumbled as they woke up and started touching his shoulders, thighs and any other parts of him their sluggish hands could reach, thinking he was waking them up for another bout of sex.
“Get out of here immediately”, he growled and stood up from the bed and went to the bedstand, he pulled out a gun from the drawer and showed the ladies.
“I am going to go and take a shower; I don’t want to come and meet either of you here or else…” he paused and waved the weapon in from of the scared ladies who were suddenly widely awake and bundled together. The sight made him chuckle slightly. “The good news though is, I don’t take so long in the bathroom. Ten minutes at most and I am out, that should give you ample time to get dressed and get the fuck out”.
He said and walked away into the adjoining bathroom, waving the gun as he went to make sure the women understood that he really meant what he said. He heard them grumble, then curse him silently before the scurried around to get dressed. Few minutes under the shower and he heard the door slam shut to indicate that the sluts he brought had left and he suddenly felt a lot much better.
He came out of the shower and dressed in a black dress-shirt and black pant trouser which complimented his dark aura. His long dark brown hair was packed into a short ponytail and that gave him a serious but sexy look. He heard his phone ring and picked it from where he had charged it overnight and read the caller ID; Padre (father).
“Father…”, he answered the call with respect as he walked out of the penthouse and made his war to his sport car. He checked the time on his watch, it was 7:43. He was glad that he would be punctual as usual to the gang meeting, he hated lateness.
“Where are you son?” his father asked from the other side of the phone.
“I am on my way home. I should arrive before ten minutes elapses if all goes as planned”, he said as he got into the car, turned on his ignition and connected the call to the car’s Bluetooth.
“Magnifico. Call your brother and remind him that tardiness would be highly frown upon”, his father said and ended the call immediately. Marco frowned and the thought of his immediate younger brother, Rafael. At age 26, he was still acting like a teenager and misbehaving around. What was more annoying was the fact that he had to always clean up after his brother and that was starting to get tiring, but his father would always drum into his ear “la famiglia é tutto ealla fine della giornata, hai solo la famiglia al tuo angolo” (family is everything and at the end of the day, you only have family at your corner).
At this point, he was very sure he was down for punching this particular family into that corner and make sure he never steps a foot out again but he sighed and resigned to calling his brother. The caller ID showed Fratellino (little brother) and a couple of rings later, the call was answered.
“Let me guess, you forgot today’s meeting Rafael, didn’t you?” Marco growled at a half-sleepy Rafael who suddenly jolted fully awake.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”, Rafael said in frustration and Luca could hear him scramble around, he pulled the gear to drive and tilted into the road and immediately cut the call on a confused Rafael.
Few minutes later and he pulled up to the front of the Marco's house and home to the La Corona Nera mafia group. He packed the car and handed the key to one of the valets as he walked into the meeting room, completely ignoring the greetings made by the scared maids. He saw his father and his uncle who also doubled as the consigliere of the group, they were the only ones there.
“Welcome my boy”, his father said with a smile while his uncle acknowledged him with a nodded, but he felt uncomfortable immediately at the warmness he was receiving from them. They must be a reason for this and he was sure that they were conniving something in regards to him, he just did not know if it was something he had to be worried about.
“Father, uncle”, he replied the greetings with a bow.
“Sit down”, his father gestured to a seat beside him and he sat down but gave them a calculative look. “There is something of utmost importance I have to discuss with you before the others arrive”
“I’m listening father”.
“I am getting too old for this, I want to resign and I am passing on the clan to you. You will be their new leader, their Capo.”
“Father, what do you mean you are too old? You are still as active as ever”
“I know my body and bones and I know it is time for me to take a step back. I know the gang in your hands is safe and would probably be better than it is now. But you would need help, that takes me to the next topic of discussion”
His father and uncle shared a look he was not so sure he was comfortable with, especially with the new news that he had just received. “What is it father?”
“Your uncle and I have had an extensive discussion and we have deemed it fit for Sophia his daughter, to be your betrothed.”
“What?” he asked, getting up to his feet in utter confusion. “That is completely absurd”
“Except you can find a woman and get married to her in four months’ time, Sophia is to marry you four months after your coronation as Capofamaliglia and that is final.
Before Marca could protest, people had started filing in for the meeting and that was the end of that conversation until probably after this meeting, Marco sat in silence and annoyance throughout the whole meeting session. He could not wait to leave the room and take his car out for
a spin to clear his head.
Rafael walked through the hospital’s quiet night corridors with a numbness in his chest. The antiseptic smell was sharp, fluorescent lights humming overhead like too many eyes. He pushed past the automatic doors of the maternity wing, clutching his phone, his heart full of hope.His hand shook slightly. The new life waiting inside, the baby’s first cries–he’d imagined it all. He had practiced the words he would say to the new born. He reached for the room number on his phone’s screen. His boots made soft thuds on the tiles, each step echoing. Nurses with soft voices passed by, pushing carts, closing curtains around beds and speaking in hushed tones.The lullaby of monitors and ventilators in the distance, the occasional call over a PA system–“Stat to Room 16, Stat to Room 16,” “Need a nurse in pediatrics”–all signs he was close. He opened the door, expecting the smell of new skin, clean blankets, soft cries, the glow of a mother’s tired joy. Instead, he froze.There in a bed marked by
The night after Vittorio’s board meeting carried a strange silence through the mansion–the kind that felt heavy, like the air itself had weight. Isabelle sat in her private lounge, the wine on her glass untouched with her reflection quivering in the red liquid like a ghost. Her father had held a meeting. A strategic one, no doubt–filled with men who spoke her language of power and blood. Yet, she hadn’t been invited.She tilted her head slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching with restrained fury. “He had the meeting without me, Vincenzo?” She asked, her voice quiet, almost calm. Vincenzo stood a few feet away, hands folded respectfully in front of him. “Yes, Signora. The Don wanted to handle it privately.”“Privately?” Isabelle repeated, her tone sharpening like a blade drawn from its sheath. She turned her eyes toward him, cold and glimmering beneath the chandelier’s light. “Since when am I not part of private matters in this family? When did that fucking start? Ohhh, so I’m an
The long oak table gleamed under the golden light of the chandelier, polished to perfection, yet marred by the weight of the men who sat around it. Cigars burned low in crystal ashtrays, their smoke curling lazily towards the ceiling, forming ghostly spirals that blurred the edges of the room. Vittorio sat at the head of the table–silent and immovable. His tailored suit was a perfect shade of charcoal, his cuff links glinting like silver eyes whenever he moved.The others watched him carefully, measuring their words, waiting for the smallest sign of approval or irritation. Behind him, two guards stood still as statues, hands folded neatly behind their backs. “We have the opportunity to take the De Luca territory now.” One of the older men said, breaking the silence. His voice was gravelly from years of smoke and betrayal.“Their financial network is weak, their alliances uncertain. All they have left is the loyalty of their foot soldiers. If we move fast—”“—We could take the northern
The night had finally gone still. Marco guided Alessa down the long corridor, away from the metallic scent of blood and the muffled screams that still echoed faintly behind closed doors. The air felt heavier the farther they walked, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. She didn’t speak, her pace was steady but slow. Her eyes were distant, fixed somewhere beyond the hallway.The earlier rage had left her hollow and her body was still trembling from the exhaustion that followed adrenaline. When they reached her quarters, Marco pushed open the door. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp near the bed. It cast long, soft shadows across the floor–a kind of quiet that felt almost foreign in a house built on chaos. “Sit.” He said.Alsssa hesitated then sank onto the edge of the bed. Her hand instinctively drifted to her abdomen again, pressing lightly against it. She tried to hide it but Marco saw. He stood for a moment just watching her. His suit jackets hung
The corridor leading to the lower chamber was quiet except for steady rhyme of their footsteps. The lights above flickered weakly, casting a pale, amber hue across the walls. The smell of smoke and gunpowder still clung to the air, mixed with the faint trace of iron from the night’s chaos. Alessa walked beside Marco, her jaw clenched and hands curled into fists.Every muscle in her body trembled with the kind of anger that came from helplessness. Their perfect plan–the carefully orchestrated party meant to reassert control–had turned into a massacre. Every gunshot, every scream from the ballroom still echoed in her mind. Marco said nothing, his thoughts just as heavy. The sound of his boots against the marble floor felt too loud in the silence.He had seen too many disasters, but this one had a bitter edge. Too many questions. Too many ghosts rising from the ashes. Then, without warning, Alessa froze. Her breath hitched. A sharp pain ripped through her abdomen like a blade twisting de
The room stank of iron and fear. Matteo hung between two men like a broken marionette, wrists tied behind him with blood dripping steadily from his lip. The flickering bulb overhead cast long shadows that made the walls look like they were closing in. His shirt was half torn, his once slicked hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.Every breath came out like a rasping plea. “Please,” he muttered with a shaky voice. “Please, I don’t know anything, I swear.” “Liar.” Isabelle spat. She stood in front od him, very inch of her painted in fury–hot fury. Her blood-stained arm was wrapped in a bandage from the earlier attack but she didn’t care. The wound only fueled her rage. Her men surrounded Matteo like wolves around a wounded prey.The sound of her heels echoed as she circled him slowly, her expression calm but her eyes blazing. “Do you know what you ruined? Do you fucking know?” She asked. Her tone was soft, dangerously calm. “My father’s name. His legacy. The entire family’s reputa







