Novel & Cerita Daniel Larusso Younger

Some envious, some amazed, some challenging eyes thrilled Daniel's mind, exhilarated his senses while Miliani tried her best to hide her hesitant frame behind his tall stature. Lorenzo Romano was high on cocaine, desperately trying to steady his nerves as he was about to witness something so bizarre in his six decades of existence within the empire. A mere twenty-six year old lad taking over a position rivaling if not surpassing, that of the capo himself.

Rosaria teases his cousin as Connor scratches his nape. “Thank you so much for your compliment. I am Connor Carter Vozinelik, my cousins.” Luigino speaks up to catch their mere attention. “I don’t know your name, young man. However, I am your uncle, Luigino Walsh Russo. The second son of your grandfather, Lorenzo.” “These are my beautiful daughters: Amadea Morata, Rosaria Cucci and Alessandra Venutri Russo. I hope you all get along with each other because Amedea is the oldest, but she is still twenty-six years old.”

"If there’s dirt on DeLuca, I’ll find it." Ancelotti hung up and turned to Caroline. "That’s step one. Now, we need witnesses." Caroline exhaled sharply. "That won’t be easy. Everyone who works for DeLuca is either too afraid or too loyal to talk." Ancelotti smirked. "Not everyone. There’s someone who wants revenge." Caroline frowned. "Who?" "Daniel Costa," Ancelotti said. "He used to be DeLuca’s right-hand man until he got betrayed. Word is, he barely escaped with his life. If anyone is willing to talk, it’s him."

Marco reloaded beside her. “I think they’re pulling back.” Luca nodded. “DeLuca lost too many men.” But then Marco froze. “Elena…” She followed his gaze. Daniel was walking toward them through the smoke. Shotgun in his hands. A twisted smile on his face. “You know,” Daniel said calmly, “this night got out of control.” Marco lifted his gun. “Stop right there.” Daniel ignored him. His eyes were locked only on Elena. “I should’ve killed you two years ago.”

⸻ Twenty-seven years earlier… ⸻ The De Luca Estate had once been filled with laughter. Not soldiers. Not bodyguards. Children. Three boys raced through the gardens beneath the warm Italian sun. Leonardo. Nine years old. Always running ahead. Little Alessio. Only six. Trying desperately to keep up. And between them… A twelve-year-old boy with bright golden eyes. Darius. He laughed louder than anyone. He climbed higher than anyone. And whenever Alessio fell… Darius reached him first.