Ruthless God (Godless Reign #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

MASSIMO

Age 16

Everything was dank and dark and smelled of rust.

Or perhaps that was all the blood I had bled out. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

I had stopped caring two, perhaps three, days prior. It just didn’t fucking matter anymore. They were going to kill me. I just wished they would get it done and over with instead of drawing it out like this.

Drawing it out as if I had done something so egregious when my only sin was being born into the De Luca family. Any slight they thought I might have made against them hadn’t happened yet. Not until I took the helm over from my father, but it looked like that wasn’t going to be the case.

Paying for the sins of the father. How fucking ironic when I hated the bastard’s guts with everything in me.

I let out a dry laugh, ignoring the pain from the cuts they inflicted on the left side of my face. If I survived this, it would no doubt leave a fucking scar.

I tensed my muscles, trying to assess all the injuries. From the fucking pain, it looked like I was going to fucking scar all over.

No more pretty boy, like how Elio, one of my brothers, liked to fuck about with me.

Now my insides would match with my outside— if I made it out of this hellhole, that was. It didn’t seem very likely.

Lucky fuckers.

With the way I was feeling now, if I did make it out of here alive, I would come back for them. For all of them. And I’d show them how I earned the nickname Lo Spietato before my fourteenth birthday.

I pulled against the chains holding me in place, feeling my skin burn from the stretch. Fuck, but how was I going to make it out of here alive? I didn’t fucking know.

Elio better prepare himself.

With me gone, he would be next in line to inherit the De Luca empire. I sure as fuck hoped he was ready. Perhaps I had done my siblings no favor by trying to shield them from the fucked-upness that was our father.

Lot of good that seemed to have done, considering the dirty De Luca blood running through our veins.

My eyes shut, and I resisted the urge to fall asleep. I wasn’t sure I would wake up again if I did. But it was hard. So fucking hard. I just…

My mind drifted.

I saw myself as a small child, clinging to my dead mother’s waist as if she had the power to protect me. Fuck, but I could even remember how old I was when that fantasy was effectively shattered. When I realized my mother didn’t have any powers in this cruel world, and she was nothing more than a victim.

Or maybe after when I found her prone body, swinging from a rope fashioned out of the finest silk that had been her dress. That was her last message to my father. A “fuck you” as she hung herself with the dress given to her on their fifteenth anniversary.

A low buzzing sound hit my ears, getting me out of my thoughts. I looked up, taking in my surroundings, but when I couldn’t hear it anymore, I convinced myself it was nothing more than my imagination. But then the sound came out again, louder this time. I frowned.

The sound was a familiar one.

Like one of our bombs, right before it detonated?—

A loud boom came from somewhere to my left, and it felt as if the entire foundation shook within itself. Smoke billowed from the open space behind me, quickly spreading. It didn’t take long before the entire place was covered in a thick cloud of smoke. My eyes watered as I coughed, trying to get my bearings under control. I jumped and let out a loud yell when I felt hands touching me.

“ Bedda matri !” a familiar voice rang out. One I was so fucking glad to hear. “It’s me, Massimo.”

I turned and took in Elio. At only fifteen, he already filled out better than half of our father’s men. Taller, stronger, much more ruthless than any of them. The way our father had trained us to be.

He pulled back, his gaze taking me in from head to toe. His jaw clenched, and I grinned. “What, don’t you still think I look pretty?”

My voice came out light and joking, but there was no way to disguise the lack of energy in it or the fucking pain I was in.

“I’m going to fucking destroy every one of those bastardi ,” he said, working on the chains holding me to the wall. His muscles strained as he pulled, and when that didn’t work, he looked around the room, stopping when he found a metal bar not too far away. I watched him as he walked over to grab it and returned to my side.

“I’m gonna get you out of here.”

I grunted. I had no doubt that he would. It had always been us against this world. While we were close with our other three younger siblings, Elio and I were closer in age. And we’d experienced more cruelty together under our father’s hands than we did apart.

I closed my eyes when Elio hit the metal bar against the chain over and over again, sweat gathering on his forehead; all the while, the war raged on outside. I didn’t know how many of my father’s men followed my brother on this rescue mission, but I sure as hell hoped it would be enough.

Elio weakened the chain enough before he grabbed it and started pulling.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I felt the chains detach from the walls. Elio helped me stand up. I still had the chains around my wrists, but that could be dealt with once we got the fuck out of here.

“Did you bring an extra gun?” I asked Elio. He grinned and pulled out the pistol tucked behind him. I gripped the handle, feeling a burst of adrenaline going off and giving me enough motivation to fight. Elio and I walked out of the room that led to the vast and empty space of what looked like an abandoned factory.

I looked around, catching sight of probably fifteen of my father’s men in the thick of battle. Father was nowhere to be found. I wasn’t fucking surprised. Of course he wouldn’t have risked his head, not even for his children, but fuck, that hurt worse than all the wounds inflicted on me. I shook away the thought and focused on the problem at hand.

Getting out of here alive.