Chapter 004

LUCA

"Mantén los ojos en ella." My order was clear as I spoke to Hugo, my most trusted soldier. (Keep your eyes on her).

He nodded sharply, understanding even the words I didn't say.

The soldiers who I had sent to take care of the rat, a mole, in my mafia had been lucky to capture the witness. I hated trails.

Anger simmered beneath my skin when they informed me that there was a witness. I was ready to spill their blood to cover my tracks, but they knew me well enough to have captured the witness.

I would have wasted her unique beauty by putting a bullet through her head on the first glance if my sixth sense didn't tell me that there was more to her. Besides, she had come just at the right time.

Speaking of time, I lifted my wrist to check the time on my wristwatch. My shipment was late by half an hour. A scowl etched itself on my face.

I hated delays. The 'coke' was supposed to have arrived and be ready for supply, but it was delayed by the ever punctual suppliers, El Chacal, a renowed supplier in the underground world.

He feared me and never delayed my shipment, but today was an exception.

I gritted my teeth, grabbing a bottle of strong whiskey to calm my nerves.

The door to my office burst open, and I knew it could only be one person. Diego Romero. My underboss and cousin.

"Esos malditos rusos!" He cursed as he burst into my office. (Those bloody Russians).

Instinctively, I paid attention to him, having a sixth sense that it had something to do with my shipments.

"No, they didn't," I growled, my voice lowered by the rage building within me. Those bastards kept trying to test my limits.

"The whole shipments, don. They seized them all," he bitterly complained.

They knew what they were doing. The Russians had been our long-time enemy. They had continually tried to prove themselves as having authority over the drug trade. They had tried it with other dons and succeeded over most of them, but I was among the few who refused to bow to them, and this was their challenge.

I got a hold of my emotions, refusing to let them control me. "Diego, they're small rats. Teach them a lesson," I calmly ordered.

"Si, don!'

He seemed satisfied with my response, storming out. I couldn't let them ruffle me. I had bigger things to worry about that some pesky Russians.

And then, the bigger problems burst into my office.

I rose from my seat to acknowledge them. Alonso Castillo and Mateo Vargas, my father and uncle, respectively.

"Dimelo, los rumores son solo una m*****a mentira, hijo," my father spat, his eyes blazing as he stood opposite my desk. (Tell me the rumours are a bloody lie, son.)

I stared at him, unmoved by his outburst. I had become used to it after twenty-eight years of living as his son. My calmness ruffled him all the more.

Mateo, my uncle and consigliere, sat still, his eyes trained on me. He had always understood me better than my selfish father, who thought my life should revolve around him.

"¿Una nadie? ¿Eso es lo que piensas de tu futura esposa?" My father growled, getting angrier by the second. (A nobody? Is that the bride you want to get married to?)

My eyes grew cold. "I won't have you speak about my fiancée in that manner," I snapped, glaring into his eyes. He hated it when I spoke to him in English, terming me a bastard for refusing to speak my mother tongue with him.

"¿Estás haciendo esto para contradecirme porque no quieres casarte como te he ordenado?" He pressed further. (Are you doing this to spite me because you don't want to get married as I have instructed?)

A small smirk played on my lips. "You asked me to get married before the end of the year for me to be crowned don over the clans, padre. That's what I'm doing. Thankfully, you didn't specificy the bride."

He always tried to manipulate me for his gains, but I knew just how to make his decisions come around and bite him in the rear. Five mafias made up the Spanish Mafiaso clan, and my father was both head of our district, Madrid, and the head of the clan.

He had only made me the head of our district. My task to become the head of the clan was to prove myself responsible for my family to show that I could be responsible for the clan, which was like a family.

He was fiercely against the idea of bringing in strangers into the mafia. His anger at my decision left a weird feeling of satisfaction in me.

My father was livid. "Mateo, háblale a él," he grunted to his younger brother, trembling in rage as he stormed out of my office in anger (Talk to him).

Mateo had his eyes trained on me as he questioned with a calmer voice. "Luca, what happened to our arrangement?"

I leaned back into my chair, unruffled. "Do you trust me, tío?"

He nodded swiftly. "Of course, I do, my son. I trained you."

His understanding of me was a relief.

The old man who called himself my dad had never believed in me or my decisions. He made me train day and night to be a fearless don, yet he thought me unworthy of being the don until my uncle took me in and trained me. He had convinced my father that I was ready to mount the throne as the new don.

He had served as my consigliere for my five years as the don of the Spanish Mafia, and his wisdom had always come in handy in tough times. He had literally made me the leader I was now.

"Trust my decision, uncle. I know I promised to marry Rosa, your daughter, but I love her too much to endanger her life like that," I explained to my uncle, who looked thoughtful.

A tightness caught in my chest at the thought of her being caught in this bloody mess. Rosa. She was family and family was everything to me.

Marrying her would make her a target. I had many enemies, and they'd all target her. She wouldn’t be safe, not with me. I could already feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me

"She is my cousin. I don't want to lose her like I lost Elianna," I stated, keeping my voice firm despite the ache that tugged at my heart. "We are in the middle of a tough battle, and I don't need any casualty. Anyone close to me will be a target. I wouldn't be able to contain myself if Rosa gets hurt like my Elianna was."

My uncle nodded for a long moment before a sigh escaped his lips. "Be wise, son. It will be a shame for you to meet what you're running away from ahead of you."

I reclined into my seat, understanding exactly what he meant. "That can not happen, tío. I'm done getting emotionally attached to any lady. I don't love this lady, and it will remain that way. I'll just get an heir or two out of her, and that's as far as it gets."

My uncle nodded with a small smile. "I trust my training in you, son. Your decisions are truly wise. I'll talk to your father and try to get him to come around."

I nodded, grateful for him. "Thank you, Tío."

"Now, I trust you've dealt with the Russians like I've taught you to?" He asked with a grin.

I smirked. "You can count on that."