Godfather Legacy Novels & Stories

He let me believe my brother was dead, and he let me take this chair when he knew I never wanted it. But maybe I did. Back then. I think I did. I understood what Frankie was getting at. “I can’t do it. This is my father’s legacy.” “Yes. It’s Luciano’s legacy. Is it the legacy you want to leave behind?” I thought about it. Not too long because I already knew the answer. I shook my head, because saying the word ‘no’ felt too much like a betrayal. “You could stay here,” Frankie went on, “but this thing of ours… it will be gone by the time your son is your age. Our way of life is dying.”

“He’s the biggest investor, from what my father found out. He’s been funding them for a while. Making deals, trading shifters like they’re fucking property. It’s … it’s not what we were raised to do.” Something about the way he says it strikes a chord with me. I’ve never cared much for pack politics or family legacy, but I get the sense that, for Legion, this is about more than just stopping the fights. This is about reclaiming what his family once stood for. I respect that. Hell, I even understand it, in a way. Legacy’s gone rogue, just like Zane, and the people they used to be are long gone. Now it’s about cleaning up the mess they’ve left behind.

“Legacy and three others will meet us in Miami. It’s not ideal, but they aren’t in the city right now and it doesn’t make any sense for them to come back when we are heading out tonight, anyway.” “And this Legacy is who exactly?” I rolled my eyes. Why did they always have to have such stupid nicknames? “He’s trained in…?” “He’s an ex-marine,” Elodie whispered, and all eyes turned to her in surprise. Too late, she realised she had spoken out loud. She visibly shook herself, straightening her shoulders. “Jesus, I can’t do this.” She was on her feet in a second, her phone gripped in her hand. “If you will excuse me.”

Sweat drenched his face, his skin ashen under the moonlight. “She meant it,” he croaked. “Every word.” Marcus crouched across from him, voice low and controlled. “Then start talking. Slowly.” The fixer let out a hollow laugh that dissolved into a painful wheeze. “You don’t get to destroy a legacy like your father’s without consequences.” My stomach twisted. “Legacy of what?” I demanded. “Lies? Blood?” He turned his gaze to me, sharp despite his condition. “Power.” The word settled heavily between us.

“So… it’s not dangerous?” “No, my love,” Elara whispered, brushing a stray curl from her daughter’s cheek. “It’s miraculous. This child will change everything. That’s why Adrian gave it to you. It wasn’t a gift. It was a vow.” She looked at Nyma with eyes lit like the first light of dawn. “This baby is legacy. A turning point. And when the time comes, the world will see this child for what they truly are.” Nyma didn’t speak.

I plastered a small smile as I started to explain. “My brothers. Thank you for all the beautiful memories. For all the near-death laughs and the once-in-a-lifetime experience. I no longer see this mafia staying what it was before after everything and everyone that turned on us—that we lost. Our legacy is magnificent, and if we continue to stain it, do you think our predecessors would be glad?

“You done with your last words? Good. Now get the hell out of my estate.” Cassiano runs all of North America now. Leo’s mother trembled with fear. She scrambled to drag her crippled son off the floor. But Leo fought her like a rabid dog. “I’m not leaving! Aurora is my woman! How can you be so shameless, sleeping with your nephew’s sloppy seconds!” The news of the Godfather’s grand wedding to me had shaken the entire global underworld. These were facts. Written in blood. Unforgettable. Only he was still living in his own pathetic dream world.

Gerard was very strict with his children and whoever else. “May the Yankees win?” he inquires sarcastically. “As I was telling you” his father continues to comment, ignoring his question. “The most important thing is that you decide to give me a grandson, an heir, someone who will take responsibility for the legacy that I have built with so much effort. Otherwise… you know I wouldn't leave the company to you. I'd rather leave it to your brother, even if that means I'd destine it to failure.” “You'd rather destroy the family legacy than give me what's rightfully mine?”

“You know it’s not that simple, not to mention this legacy my mother’s always going on about.” “What’s the point of being king of Lycans and werewolves if you can’t do what’s best for us?” Frost countered, his tone turning serious. “Tell me, what’s more important: that legacy or your happiness?” Frost eased up on the teasing, speaking more earnestly. He and Andriel were one; if Andriel’s human side perished, Frost would too, and that was something he wasn’t willing to let happen.

Memories of the lies he was raised with, backstabbers disguised as families and friends, pains he had to face during his childhood and training, and the blood-drenched legacy he was born into. That's why he left in the first place. But he had long since come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t change who he was—a De Romano and the Capo of the Five Territories. His sons, and their sons after them, would carry on his legacy. He had made peace with the life he’d been born into. The blood, the power, and the responsibilities. It wasn’t a life anyone could walk away from, and he sure as hell wouldn’t pretend otherwise. Every decision, every move he made, wasn’t just for him anymore. It was fo