Pain.
A sharp, overwhelming pressure pressed against him from all sides, his body too weak to resist. His mind, however, was fully aware. A foreign yet oddly familiar sensation overwhelmed his senses—the sensation of birth.
And then, suddenly, he was free. Cold air rushed against his skin, replacing the suffocating warmth he had been trapped in. His lungs burned, forcing him to let out a cry, not out of fear or confusion, but because his newborn body demanded it.
But inside, his mind was racing.
I was just reading… wasn't I?
Memories of another life flickered in his head. He had been Lucian Smith, an ordinary man, a reader who loved stories about crime syndicates, powerful families, and mafia empires. He had spent countless nights immersed in a particular novel, one set in a world of bloodline powers and ruthless ambition.
And now…
As his blurred vision adjusted, he saw them.
A woman—stunning yet cold, golden eyes piercing and unreadable, her silver-white hair cascading down her shoulders like strands of moonlight. And beside her, a towering man, a presence so suffocating it felt as if the very air obeyed him. He was dressed in an immaculate black suit, his silver-white hair neatly styled, his expression unreadable.
It clicked.
Isabella Valenciari. Lorenzo Valenciari.
[Author: Finally, I have decided on the names; it is more difficult to settle on names than it is to write a novel.]
His mother and father.
And suddenly, the realization crashed down on him like a tidal wave.
He wasn't just reborn in some random world.
He had been reborn into the most powerful mafia family in Eredia.
He was Lucian Valenciari, heir to the Silver Serpents.
As his senses sharpened, so did his awareness of his surroundings. The room was not a sterile hospital. No, this was something far grander. The ceiling above him was made of polished marble, inlaid with a silver serpent emblem—the symbol of the Valenciari.
The atmosphere was heavy, not with warmth, but with power and expectation. Even though his body was small, fragile, and newly born, his mind screamed at him that every person in this room was dangerous.
He could see the midwives, silent and professional, their movements precise and controlled. And in the shadows, standing with an almost amused smirk, was a man with slicked-back hair and sharp eyes. Dante Moretti—the Consigliere. The Devil's Advocate of the Valenciari.
Another man, slightly younger than his father but equally as intimidating, let out a low chuckle. Alessio Valenciari, the Underboss.
"Così giovane… e già il destino si piega a lui." (So young… and already, fate bends to him.)
Their eyes were on him. Studying him. Judging him.
Lucian felt something stir deep within him—something beyond human comprehension.
His father, Lorenzo Valenciari, stepped closer, his towering presence making even the midwives shrink back. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he placed a single finger against Lucian's forehead.
In that moment—
A wave of power surged through Lucian's tiny body.
Images flashed in his mind—serpents coiling around a throne, whispers of fate bending, unseen forces bowing to his will. A mark burned itself into his very soul:
☩ Sovereign Serpent's Dominion.
[Author: This is the best I could come up with; I know it is not the best, but we can not do anything about my poor naming skills, can we.]
A power that made men kneel.
A force that dictated who ruled and who obeyed.
Even though he was an infant, Lucian felt it. The world around him shifted, like an invisible force had acknowledged his existence. A midwife flinched. She didn't know why, but something inside her told her she had just stood before something greater than herself.
The room fell into dead silence.
Then—
Lorenzo smirked. A proud, satisfied smirk.
"He is a Valenciari, indeed."
As the night deepened, Lucian lay in his crib, staring at the ceiling with a mind far too sharp for an infant.
The pieces had fallen into place.
He was no longer Lucian Smith, the ordinary reader. He was Lucian Valenciari, heir to the strongest mafia in the world, the future ruler of an empire built on power, deception, and blood.
But with great power came greater enemies.
The Valenciari ruled from the top, but even they were not untouchable. Rivals, betrayals, unseen forces lurking in the dark—his new life was a battlefield, and he was right at the center of it.
If I want to survive—no, if I want to rule—I need to start preparing now.
His golden eyes flickered in the dim light.
A serpent does not strike without patience.
But when it does—
It never misses.
As the night deepened, Lucian lay in his crib, staring at the ceiling with a mind far too sharp for an infant.
The pieces had fallen into place.
He was no longer Lucian Smith, the ordinary reader. He was Lucian Valenciari, heir to the strongest mafia in the world, the future ruler of an empire built on power, deception, and blood.
But with great power came greater enemies.
The Valenciari ruled from the top, but even they were not untouchable. Rivals, betrayals, unseen forces lurking in the dark—his new life was a battlefield, and he was right at the center of it.
If I want to survive—no, if I want to rule—I need to start preparing now.
His golden eyes flickered in the dim light.
A serpent does not strike without patience.
But when it does—
It never misses.
…
Then, suddenly—
Lucian froze.
A terrifying realization crept over him. Something primal. Something that shattered all the grand ambitions forming in his head.
He needed to pee.
No… no, no, no.
This wasn't happening. He was Lucian Valenciari. The heir to an empire. A man reborn with the knowledge of two lifetimes. He would not degrade himself like this.
His tiny body twitched as he tried to will himself into holding it. He had commanded power itself mere moments ago! Surely, he could—
Nope.
It was happening.
His soul screamed in humiliation as he succumbed to his newborn body's betrayal.
Damn it!
And then, before he could stop himself—
He cried.
Not a normal baby cry. No, this was a cry of despair, of shame, of a man who once prided himself on control but was now at the mercy of his own bladder.
Isabella was by his side instantly, gently lifting him with an elegance that made even this humiliating moment feel… slightly less awful.
"Shh, piccolo mio… La mamma è qui." (Shh, my little one… Mama is here.)
Lucian, now safely in his mother's arms, refused to acknowledge what had just happened.
This never happened.
No one speaks of this. Ever.
And just like that, the terrifying ruler of the underworld let out a defeated sigh before falling asleep in the safety of his mother's embrace.
---
End of Chapter 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hello everyone, Author here,
This chapter marks the beginning of our new journey, as well as Lucian's path to the top of Underworld. I tried to add humor in the last, making the starting light, so let us continue and enjoy our journey.
—Aaron_Arkwright