1. The Gates Open- January 5th, 2026 #2
It was from somebody he trusted… Luca thought as his mind flickered to every soul that surrounded his father on a day-to-day basis.
Dontrell carried the same mafia culture and tradition as his Sr. The Bonetti Mafia had a traditional hierarchy.
It was framed for a Black mafia that honored old world structure, loyalty, and cultural codes.
Before Luca stepped into position, he planned on replacing everybody by force.
He couldn’t trust anyone but the men he personally knew would step for him and shed blood without second thought.
First person that would replace Dontrell’s underboss would be Roy.
He would become Luca’s second in command.
He already started to replace titles with faces he was familiar with and was ready to bring to the table.
Men that were hungry and proved their loyalty over the years of his life span.
Some new men that did time behind bars with him, and men that made names for themselves out in the streets.
Luca was getting ready to reconstruct the entire Bonetti Mafia and knew who the first person to challenge him would be.
Luca didn’t forget. Didn’t forgive. And wouldn’t rest. His father’s spilled blood was on his mind, still fresh, still staining every memory. The man who raised him to be silent, observant, strategic, stabbed in his own home, betrayed from the inside.
Who the fuck did it? He asked himself this over and over…it wasn’t coincidental…it was intentional, meant to happen.
People called themselves mourning his father when he was in turmoil and grief; he didn’t realize or recognize the depressive state of mind he was in either.
How the fuck can things be normal, or fine to me without my pops here with me?
The car turned onto a private road leading to the Bonetti estate. The wrought iron gates rose and twisted in patterns. Guards stood rigid as the Maybach approached, their hands hovered near their weapons until they saw who sat inside.
Slowly, the gates opened, and Luca’s fingers curled into fists. He wasn’t stepping into his home. He was stepping back into his father’s shadow. Back into an empire that he had no plans of running anytime soon.
“A man doesn’t need a strong voice to be feared, Luca. Only a strong reason to kill.”
His father’s words echoed in his mind.
“First order of business?” Roy asked lowly.
Luca didn’t look away from the mansion ahead.
“Find…who did it,” his whisper slid out, dangerously as poison.
“Next, I will rebuild the Bonetti Mafia. New blooded and thorough men, all business will be frozen until the slate is wiped clean.” His raspy whisper came out lowly and slow.
The gates slammed shut behind them, Luca wasn’t ready to enter his father’s castle.
“Where’s my mom?” He signed the words instead of speaking.
“She had the chef’s make you dinner, your grandfather remained in the states. He wanted to lay eyes on you and have a meeting before leaving,” Roy spoke cautiously.
“LuLu has been in her element lately. Haven’t been here much, I think she’s coping in her own way. She has her own line of business—”
“I know, take me to her.” Luca’s hands moved fast as he signed to Roy.
He needed to see the woman that birthed him.
Needed to look Lucille in the eyes. He felt deep in his soul that some shit wasn’t right with her.
The shift between the two started the second year of his incarceration.
Luca also needed his mom to tell him the specific details of what happened to his father besides the fact of him being murdered.
He already knew without having to be told that Lucille held lots of secrets.
There was only so much that could be said over a phone.
The cluelessness left Luca uneasy for several reasons.
In prison he came up with his own conclusions by going over the people that was the closest to his father.
Knowing his mother’s real get down, Luca understood how dirty she could play to get the answers she wanted.
Several bodies had been found gutted and shot up after Dontrell’s passing.
A lot of those bodies had Lucille’s name written all over them. Her grieving came with consequences. Lucille being in her own element never meant good things. Her delicate hands were always tied in a lot of things, some for the good and majority for the bad.
There was only one place where Lucille could dwell comfortably.
House of Angels, her main building, was located in the heart of Downtown L.A.
To the public, she was the poised owner of a ‘Luxury Relationship Consultancy’. To the men who paid her, she was the gatekeeper to a quiet, consequence-free heaven. To the women she employed, Lucille was salvation rocking designer from head to toes.
House of Angels looked like nothing more than a polished, city-owned building. A place where professionals could sip overpriced tea, enroll in etiquette classes, and claim they were ‘working on their interpersonal skills’. She had several of them all over So Cal California.
She saved several women from their abusive pimps, clothed them and placed a roof over their heads. It was something she wished for when she was fourteen sleeping on concrete floors feeling unwanted.
Despite her reputation, Lucille's true motivations ran much deeper than profit or status. She used her business as a shield, a way to protect not only herself but the vulnerable women who came to her seeking refuge. The House of Angels became a sanctuary, a place where second chances weren’t just a promise but a daily reality.
Every corner of the building echoed with stories of resilience, hope, and silent battles won, often led by Lucille’s unwavering determination.
The women she employed drove nice cars, houses, and lived outside of House of Angels. Their loyalty was to Lucille, and most of them helped her on her side quests. Even if it meant setting up men with power to get exactly what she wanted.
There was also this dark wavering side to Lucille.
The side that remained caught up in her painful past. If there was any woman that didn’t want to revert their lives and speak the tune she loved to hear, Lucille would allow them to keep prostituting, but only under her thumb.
She refused to allow anyone to refer to her as their pimp.
When truth be told, that was exactly what she was in order to make a good profit off a woman spreading her legs.
“What’s in the bag?” Luca signed.
Once the iron gates closed behind them and the driver navigated further up the private road, Luca felt like he could breathe better.
“I got you a burner phone and a main line. LuLu got a couple of cigars stuffed with weed and a bottle of Remy Martin Grande.” Roy smirked.
He reached down and picked up the brown leather bag and passed it over to Luca.
He glanced inside; his eyes scanned the contents with a sense of relief mixed with caution.
The burner phone was crucial for staying off the radar, and the cigars and cognac felt like small luxuries in a tense situation.
He nodded his thanks to Roy, silently appreciating the care woven into even the smallest details from his mom.
Seconds after his personal phone powered on, his phone pinged and went off back-to-back. Roy shook his head with a goofy smirk plastered on his handsome face.
“That must be Ill Na Na.” He chuckled the words out.
Luca looked down at his phone and saw her name in big bold letters.
Although Sanarah was his ex-longtime girlfriend, she once held a special place in his heart.
It was Sanarah’s insecurities and controlling ways that ruined them.
For the longest Luca was stuck on Sanarah like a bad drug habit.
He ended up breaking up with her the first year of being locked up.
Every other day she accused him of sleeping with the women guards.
She went so far as to getting locked up by attacking a woman guard during a visit just because she was pretty with wide hips and ass.
It was no secret, Luca loved thicker women.
Unlike his father, he remained faithful to Sanarah, no matter how much pussy got thrown his way.
Ill Na Na was the nickname Luca gave Sanarah; he worshipped the ground she walked on.
She wasn’t picture perfect either, she had her flaws.
Most men of Luca’s caliber could pull a model type of chick with the perfect beat of makeup.
Luca loved the authenticity of a woman. When he looked at Sanarah, he saw beauty in her obvious scars that darkened her light toffee complexion.
She was thick in all the right places; he was the man that kissed and licked up and down her stomach.
He gripped it whenever he was deep inside of her just so she could know how much he loved all of her.
It crushed him to cut her off cold turkey.
He knew it had to be done because he didn’t need any added stress or weaknesses while being locked away.
Three years into his bid he found out through Roy that Sanarah had a baby by an unknown man.
Roy saw her out pregnant at the mall, spoke to her, and kept it pushing.
Luca wasn’t selfish, he knew life didn’t stop just because he was locked away.
What Luca couldn’t seem to understand was why was Sanarah still so pressed behind him.
What they once shared was dead, and Luca didn’t plan on spinning the block with Sanarah at all.
“It seems like LuLu gets this place repainted every year.” Roy gawked out the window.