Prologue #2
Dontrell Jr. signed in sign language that he was ready to go to his cop escorts.
Lucille’s heart cracked even more because she desperately wanted to run over to her son and comfort him.
She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but her conscience screamed to her that she let her youngest son down in so many ways.
Her other son, Kentrell, was high out of his mind off cocaine.
He had been a big disappointment today; he hardly recognized what today was. He didn’t even bother to show his face.
This morning, Kentrell openly got high in front of his mom.
Something he wouldn’t dare do if his father was alive.
He didn’t give a damn about the murder of his father, nor did he care about comforting his mom.
He purposely started an argument and told her that all she cared about was laying eyes on Dontrell Jr. Lucille wanted to tell Dontrell Jr. to tread lightly and control his emotions for the remainder of his time until he got released.
She didn’t need him messing up all the money she invested to have him freed.
Dontrell Jr. had selective mutism. He could speak but chose not to most of the time.
His father’s death turned his darkened soul pitch black.
He craved vengeance, he wanted to feel blood and receive answers.
Soon as he was whisked away, Lucille swallowed down her pain.
Being on her knees was all a part of an act for the cops that brought her son there to say his final goodbye.
She wanted to appear like a fragile heartbroken woman who had just lost her husband.
Once Dontrell Jr. and his uniformed slaves disappeared, Lucille stood tall like the queen she knew she was. Thunder roared from the sky and the energy suddenly shifted as she touched her waistline where her pearl handled Desert Eagle rested.
“Two of you bitches got a pass to live, and those two bitches are Cherry and Amira,” Lucille spoke heartlessly.
“Now I don’t give a fuck about what none of y’all had with my husband. I’m only choosing the women that birthed his daughter and baby boy. The rest of you hoes paid your respects. I let you breathe through the ceremony, it’s time to leave.” She licked her matte red lips.
A hush swept over the cemetery. The wind picked up as the clouds continued to darken.
All nine of the women shifted uncomfortably as they watched Lucille’s hurt transform into evilness.
Dontrell Sr.’s men appeared behind her like demon-possessed ghosts.
Like Lucille, they masked their hurt and stood tall like soldiers ready to protect their first lady.
“I thank everyone that showed face, my son Dontrell Jr. will be home soon. If you all will please—”
“That autistic mutt won’t be able to step in Donnie’s shoes! My son—”
Pop!
No one had time to even process what was taking place. All the attention went to Patricia as she disrespected Jr. She stated what everyone else was too afraid to say. How could Dontrell Di Luca Bonetti Jr. step in as the new Don when he never talked?
It was a question that everyone knew not to dare ask. Too bad Patricia’s statement cost her, her life.
“Your son was not my husband’s child, bitch,” Lucille spat.
A couple of gasps sounded off, and people shifted uncomfortably but nobody was shocked.
Especially the people who really knew how Lucille got down.
Dontrell Sr.’s men moved quick in their tailored suits.
They dragged Patricia’s limp body out of Lucille’s sight with a trail of blood staining the soaked grass.
“Anybody else want to speak their permanent peace?” She waved her only belief of silenced peace in the air and aimed it at another one of his mistresses.
More of you hoes will die soon… Lucille’s thoughts were starting to guide her in the wrong direction out of anger and hurt. Deep down she knew that couldn’t happen today. She wasn’t supposed to kill Patricia but wouldn’t dare let a soul disrespect what she birthed.
Lucille scanned the crowd with cold, unwavering eyes, daring anyone else to challenge her authority.
The tension in the air was suffocating; fear gripped at the mistresses hearts as Lucille’s fury radiated outward.
Not a soul dared to move; even the wind seemed to hesitate, unwilling to cross her path.
Lucille smirked at all of the women. She winked her eyes and walked with her shoulders back, chin up to take a seat across from the open grave.
The women left with bowed heads except the two she allowed to stay.
Next, all of the Don’s rose to their feet in silence with their right-hand men alongside of them.
A single red rose was in each one of their hands.
Lucille watched as the procession lined up, the men’s faces carved with stoic reverence.
The weight of loss mingled with the uncertainty of what came next, settling over the gathering like a dense fog.
Each Don paused before Dontrell’s grave, they dropped their rose onto the coffin in a silent ritual of respect.
No one spoke, but the message was clear: the legacy of Dontrell Di Luca Bonetti was not to be questioned or forgotten, and the torch had already been passed, whether the world was ready or not.
Nobody understood the type of Don that would come from Di Luca Jr. Lucille knew that her son was a force to be reckoned with. She could control her husband’s wrath, but her son was a whole other ball game.
As the final rose fell atop the polished wood, a hush lingered, heavy and unbroken. Lucille locked eyes with each Don in turn, a silent warning exchanged in glances, a reminder that the old order had ended, and a new era was being forged in blood and silence.
“Lucille,” a deep voice boomed from behind her.
She closed her eyes and let the comfort of her husband’s big brother’s voice wrap around her.
“Glad you came, Lenny.” Her voice didn’t waver, nor did she turn to give Lennox her stained red eyes.
“I dragged that knuckle head boy of yours out the house. Told him to stay in the car until everyone leaves.” Lennox’s eyes drifted over toward his brother’s grave.
It was hard for him to breathe in the crisp cold air.
As bad as he wanted to cry over his brother, he was raised in a different light.
Men like Lennox shed their tears in the dark, out of sight and out of folk’s minds.
Since him and Dontrell was young, he kept his reservations and disagreements tucked away from his brother.
He used to look for approval from his father but gave up on that when he never received it.
“I’m gonna get Kentrell right, that’s a promise. He got—”
He was cut off by Lucille turning swiftly in her seat to face him.
“He needs to get himself together, I don’t need you here in Cali trying to oversee anything. Your business remains in Vegas. I’m sure Dad wouldn’t be fond of your presence,” she spoke low so only Lennox could hear the clear threat in her tone.
“Kentrell is a fucking man. He doesn’t need a babysitter,” she added.
Her and Dontrell loved Lennox but didn’t agree with the way he ran his Vegas empire.
When Di Lucas found out that his son was staining what he’d built, he forced him out.
Lennox went to war with the last Don of Vegas in a hostile takeover.
Lennox’s biggest problem was greed. He believed that all money was good.
He didn’t respect his father handing over the mafia to his youngest brother.
He accepted his L, went to Vegas, and had it on lock with drugs as well as sex trafficking.
The sex trafficking business was what had his father disgusted.
Not only did he have a huge hand in it, he had men going around kidnapping young women.
It was the final straw for his father, and it hurt Di Lucas to disown his first-born, but he did.
Even now, Di Lucas’ nostrils flared out in disgust as he turned and gave his son his back to look at.
Fuck that old nigga, he’ll be in hell soon too… Lennox thought as he swallowed the painful lump that rose up his throat. It had been over twenty years without having his father acknowledge him. He refused to go back down memory lane and try to right his wrongs with the old man.
Lennox tucked all of his emotions, his face set in stone. He leaned down and pecked Lucille on her forehead then smiled sinisterly.
“Don’t forget who saved you, beautiful.” He moved a loose strand of Lucille’s hair out of her face.
His cold lips grazed against her earlobe as he continued to taunt her.
“I don’t want shit in Cali, but if I did…
you know you wouldn’t be able to hold a candle in front of me without it blowing out. ” He snapped his callous fingers.
“I know how you feel about Kentrell…it is his rightful place to step into Donnie’s shoes. Don’t make the same mistake my sperm donor made and hand it over to Di Luca. We wouldn’t want history repeating itself.” He inhaled her floral scent, pleased with himself.
“Oh Lenny,” Lucille sung his name out in a sweet tone before looking him directly in the eyes.
“I find it admirable how you love on Kentrell. Do let me be very clear right now and lay it all out in the mud.” She dragged her red bottom heels across the mud before letting the stiletto sink in the grass, the front of her shoe landed on top of his freshly shined boots.
Lucille leaned forward in her plastic seat to apply pressure on Lennox’s big toe with a devilish smirk contorting her beautiful soft face.
“I’m very appreciative and will never forget about the past and our possible future. I just hope your memory is as sharp as mine.” She chuckled dryly.
“Di Luca Jr. will be the next Don of Cali. If anyone thinks otherwise, there’ll be bloodshed like you’ve never witnessed before. You should know that I, out of all people, will always remain ten steps ahead.” She paused from talking and sniffed the air.
“I smell something funny close to me. I pray what I smell is just grievances but then again, a woman like me has never prayed…so I could be wrong.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m willing to join my husband in hell behind my son.
If anybody goes against him…” She clicked her teeth and turned away from Lennox.
There was no point in her completing her sentence.
Lucille was positive he caught her drift.
She also was aware that Lennox knew how weak Kentrell was.
Her first born wasn’t fit to rule, and it wasn’t just because of his drug usage.
Lennox chose the weak brother to step into his brother’s shoes because he’d be able to control Kentrell, his so-called favorite nephew.
“Very well, sis.” He straightened his posture and crossed his hands in front of him.
The other Don’s stood around Dontrell Sr.’s grave then turned to face Lucille.
Standing in formation, this was the part when they made their alliance crystal clear.
If anyone of them refused to step into formation and recognize her, it would mean they wouldn’t be in alliance.
It was time for them to approach her and kiss the back of her delicate hand.
“Just remember how—”
“I already have a woman for my son to marry. I’d never forget Di Luca’s as well as the other Don’s way of doing things. Dismiss yourself, now.”
Lucille took a brief moment to look up into Lennox’s eyes. She saw challenge, regret, and rejection in them. In every blood-built empire that called itself a mafia family, a man could not rise to the rank of Don until he had a wife beside him.
It wasn’t written in any rulebook, nor oath, but it was understood deeply within the culture that a leader without a woman wasn’t yet complete.
To the outside world, the requirement looked like tradition, a ceremonial box to check before inheriting power.
But inside the circles that moved in silence, the truth ran much deeper.
A wife displayed a Don’s discipline. His ability to choose loyalty over lust, commitment over chaos. She was proof that he could protect something fragile and soft without breaking it. She showed the men beneath him that he didn’t rule from impulse, he ruled from foundation.
A wife’s presence beside a Don displayed balance. His brutality measured by her grace, his authority sharpened by her intuition. She wasn’t beside him to simply decorate his arm. She was the mirror that reflected what kind of man he truly was.
A Don alone was dangerous…but a Don with a woman beside him was unstoppable.
Lucille already chose Di Luca Jr.’s soon-to-be wife.
She knew her son needed a woman that lacked less emotion because her son moved without them.
She also knew that her son would have many other women like his father.
So, he needed a woman fit for a man of Di Luca’s caliber.
Most mother’s thought they knew their kids better then they knew themselves. Lucille was certain that she knew Di Luca well but would soon see in the near future that she didn’t know shit besides giving birth to a thoroughbred demon.