LUCA - 18
GIANNA - 12
LUCA VINCENZO
"Today is your day, Luca. You will be now the next boss of the cosa nostra,"
My father proclaimed with a smug smile, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and malice.
I simply nodded, suppressing the rage that had burned within me since I was initiated into this life at the age of 12. Now, at 18, I was ready to ascend to the position my father held—a cruel and ruthless leader, responsible for the countless horrors our family inflicted upon this city.
My gaze swept across the room, filled with underbosses, consiglieres, and our loyal soldiers. Some of them had their laps occupied by our infamous whores, while others had already begun the play. They were all here to bear witness to my ascension, but none truly understood what this moment meant to me.
"Don't forget your promise,"
My father hissed at my cold voice.
I met his gaze, my own filled with a dark resolve. My father had raised a monster, and now that monster was ready to inherit his bloody legacy.
The room was engulfed in a haze of cigar smoke as my father began to speak. His words flowed like honey, extolling my virtues, praising my loyalty, and painting a rosy picture of the future he envisioned for me. But beneath the smooth facade, I knew the truth. He was passing me the mantle not out of love or respect but out of necessity, and perhaps a desire to retain control even when he couldn't be at the forefront.
As he placed his hand on my shoulder, the weight of his expectations bore down on me. I loathed him for this, for forcing me into this world without a choice. But I had learned well from him, the art of concealing emotions behind a mask.
With a practiced neutral expression, I nodded and uttered the words he expected to hear.
"Thank you, Father."
My heart roiled with a storm of emotions, but I betrayed none of it in my voice.
Around me, I could sense the calculating eyes that had watched my every move throughout my life. They waited for me to falter, to reveal a hint of vulnerability. This was not a moment of celebration; it was a moment of testing. My father was not ready to relinquish power entirely, and I knew I had to tread carefully.
"Cheers to our new leader,"
my father announced, raising his wine glass. His gesture was met with hollers from the young soldiers and praises from the underbosses and consiglieres.
"Choose yourself a whore, Luca. You should celebrate,"
he suggested, his words dripping with expectation.
I shot him a sidelong glance before surveying the room once more. Our whores were renowned for their attributes—ample bosoms, curvaceous figures, and a submissive demeanor.
"I'm not in the mood,"
I replied tersely, refusing to indulge in the debauchery that surrounded me.
My father gave me a knowing look before returning to his conversation with the underbosses, who were now mine.
******
The night passed in a blur, and the morning sun's harsh rays stung my eyes as I set down my wine glass. Another sleepless night, but a smirk of satisfaction adorned my lips. Finally, the moment had arrived.
I dressed in my finest suit. At 18, I already carried the bearing of a man, with muscles straining against my suit and a height of a solid 6 feet. I rubbed the stubble on my jaw and gave myself one last look in the mirror before descending.
"You seem rather excited,"
My father remarked.
I clenched my jaw at his words. If I had the power, I would have dealt with him long ago.
"Why wouldn't I be? I'm about to claim my stake."
My father met my response with a knowing smirk.
"I hope you'll take your time breaking her, bit by bit,"
He commented.
I swallowed my anger, then strode outside and slipped into my car. The vehicle navigated New York's streets - my domain, my people. A sense of protectiveness swelled within me. I now owned New York; it was mine.
My car halted in front of a house bearing the name "THE ROSETTE." The guards hastened to open the gate as I slowly drove in, taking in my surroundings.
"Welcome, boss,"
Antonio Rosette addressed me, leaving my father behind, a small victory of my own. I acknowledged him with a nod and ventured into the house, casting a glance around.
Everyone took their seats, and Antonio began to speak.
"I'm pleased you've chosen my daughter, Boss."
He smiled through crooked teeth.
"Ava,"
he called, and a girl emerged wearing a provocative outfit.
"This is my daughter, Ava."
Ava shot me a suggestive smile, and I fought the urge to unleash my anger on her.
"I'm not interested,"
I declared.
Antonio's smile faded, along with Ava's hopes. He glanced at my father, who remained absorbed in his cigar.
"We're here for your other daughter, Antonio. Luca wants her."
Ava stormed out of the room in a huff. Antonio appeared flustered, his wide eyes locked onto me.
"You heard him. I want your younger daughter, Gianna."
"But she's only 12. It's too early for her to be promised, boss."
Antonio stood up, agitated.
"Then I'll have to strip you of your title."
His eyes widened in shock. Antonio lacked the ability to conceal his emotions.
"Why do you need my youngest daughter? She's not even reached puberty; she can't be a proper wife for you. Ava is a better choice."
"I'm not here for your opinion, Antonio. I'm here to secure Gianna's promise to me. Agree and promise her to me, or..."
I paused, locking eyes with him.
"I'll strip you of your title and have your daughter marry me. Which one would you prefer, Antonio?"
He clenched his fists and fell silent.
"Your silence has given me my answer. The contract is ready. Sign it."
I tossed the papers onto the table, a barrier between us that kept me from acting on my anger.
"Father, what's happening?"
A boy no older than 10, entered the room. He observed me without fear. His eyes showed no submission to superior power.
"What's your name, boy?"
I inquired.
"Gabriel."
"Where's Gianna's room?"
He hesitated, glancing at his father, who was absorbed in the contract papers.
"I'm your boss, Gabriel. You answer to me, not to your father."
He nodded, and I continued.
"Which room is Gianna's?"
"Second floor, first room on the right."
I followed his directions, opening the door to find a room draped in pink. I despised the color but knew it was Gianna's preference. The door was open and I wasn't a bit surprised. Girls in our world had no privacy; their lives were owned by us.
"Papa..."
A soft, scarred voice reached my ears, and I hurried to her bedside. The petite figure was tangled in her bedsheets, trapped in a nightmarish torment. Fear had twisted her delicate features, her brow glistening with sweat.
Without hesitation, I knelt beside her, moving slowly so as not to startle her further. My fingers trembled with tenderness as I reached out to stroke her hair, as fine as silk. It carried the scent of lavender, a fragrance that brought me a sense of peace.
"Shh,"
I whispered, my voice barely a breath.
"It's alright, my love. I'm here with you."
My words were a gentle breeze, dispelling the storm of her nightmares. I watched as her fingers, with nails painted a delicate pink, clung to the sheets in a desperate bid to anchor herself to reality.
Her grip on the sheets loosened, and she turned her head slightly towards me, seeking solace. I took the opportunity to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, revealing the delicate curve of her cheek. The soft light highlighted the freckles scattered across her skin.
"You're safe,"
I reassured her, my voice calm.
"I won't let anything harm you. I promise."
The weight of my vow hung in the air, a promise forged in the depths of my care for her.
Her eyelids fluttered, and I saw a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. She knew I was there, a lifeline in the darkness of her dreams. Her grip on my hand tightened, fingers interlocking with mine, as if she feared I might slip away.
I leaned in closer, my breath warm against her skin, and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
"I love you,"
I murmured, the words a whispered confession of the depth of my affection. I hoped that my love, my presence, would be enough to chase away the shadows that haunted her sleep, leaving only the serenity of dreams filled with our shared moments of happiness.
She stilled before closing her eyes again. This time her breathing was even. Her chest moved up and down slowly, and I allowed her to hold my hand tightly.
"You love my sister?"
I turned around at the voice and found Gabriel standing there. I untangled my hand from her grip and beckoned him to come closer.
"You love my sister?"
He repeated.
"I do."
I didn't hesitate. There's only one thing in this world I love the most, and that's Gianna, my sunshine.
"Then take her away. Father always beats her."
I knew. I knew that scum beats her every time he gets a chance. He would pay for it.
"It will take some time,"
I explained.
Gabriel was about to speak, but I continued,
"Protect her in the meantime. Do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Be her protector for the time I can't be there."
"Why can't you take her away now?"
I smiled genuinely.
"Your sister is a princess, and she deserves a palace. I'll take her away when the palace is ready, and she's prepared to stay there."
Gabriel smiled back.
"I'll take care of her, boss. Don't worry."
I smiled at my future underboss and looked at Gianna once more. The battle had begun.
When I returned downstairs, my father was smirking, while Antonio continued to glare at the contract papers.
"The papers are signed. You chose the better option, Antonio"
I confirmed.
I then stepped in front of Antonio. He didn't dare meet my eyes. Swiftly, I drew my knife and sliced off his ear. His screams echoed throughout the house, drawing everyone out of their rooms. I was relieved I had kept Gabriel and Gianna in their room.
"Touch her again, and I will tear off your limbs with my own hands,"
I warned Antonio.
He clutched the side of his bleeding ear, attempting to staunch the blood flow. I wiped my knife clean on his suit and took the signed papers before exiting the house.
"Seems like you're rather possessive of your captive, Luca. Is it revenge, or is there something else?"
My so-called father asked, his tone insinuating.
I lit my cigar and regarded him.
"Her father killed my mother.
The only revenge I'll get is by breaking and tormenting her. She's mine to torment, and I won't allow anyone to harm even a hair on her head."
My monstrous father smirked at me.
"Your mama will be proud of you."
She damn will be.