Seventeen years ago – Naples Twelve-year-old Luca stood in his father's study, his cheek still stinging from the backhand he'd received, his eyes dry despite the pain. He'd learned years ago that crying only made things worse, that showing weakness invited more punishment. "You embarrassed me today," his father, Vittorio Romano, said coldly, not looking up from the documents on his desk. "In front of Carmine's men, you flinched when he raised his voice. Do you have any idea how that makes me look?" "I'm sorry, Father," Luca said, keeping his voice steady. "Sorry isn't enough," Vittorio said, finally looking at his son. "You're twelve years old, nearly a man. By your age, I'd already witnessed my first execution, understood that power requires the willingness to inflict pain but you - You still act like a child, still show fear, still make me question whether you're capable of inheriting what I've built." "I'll do better," Luca promised, the words automatic after years
Last Updated : 2025-12-19 Read more