Chapter 15
Fifteen
“You are barking mad.” Adrian shakes his head amused at how I broke the news to my little deer. The angry soon-to-be bride is currently sulking in our room after I dropped the wedding bomb on her this morning. “You want to force her to marry you?” I nod my head, liking the idea more and more.
“Why?” Kenzo questions. “She doesn’t hold much value.”
Anger races through me at Kenzo’s statement. My fists clench at my sides, but I keep my face unreadable. Something about him saying she has no value irks me when it shouldn’t. Gia is nothing but a pawn. This marriage won’t last long, but it will serve my purpose.
To get her brother to come out of hiding and also divert Fino’s attention just long enough to eliminate him. When he’s out of the picture, all of Fino’s assets will automatically transfer to me, being Gia’s husband. Not that I have any real need for the bastard’s wealth, but he remains oblivious to that fact. Salvatore, however, will recognize the maneuver for what it truly is—the ignition of a conflict, the first strategic move I intend to execute on the chessboard of power.
“Always make your first move obvious and the rest in secret.”
Kenzo and Adrian nod, their expressions tight, a flicker of shared pain and purpose passing between them. Their fathers, like mine, once drilled that same sentiment into their heads growing up. It is the initial maneuver in a meticulously crafted strategic battle plan, a guiding principle etched into our consciousness. This same piece of wisdom was also given to Salvatore by my grandfather. He’ll think he knows exactly what I am doing.—the play I intend to make and then he’ll attempt to subvert it.
My uncle will play right into my hands.
Right where I want him.
“You really think that is going to work, brother?” Adrian grimaces. “Never mind that Fino is locked up in his compound, where he thinks he is safe, but Salvatore? He’ll be nearly untouchable. The old man is paranoid, he’ll sacrifice a thousand men before he lets his guard down.”
A dark smile curves at the corner of my mouth.
“Exactly.”
Loyalty is the one thing Salvatore doesn’t have in abundance. As Don, he chooses to instill fear in place of having a soldier’s admiration and trust. Once they see how easily he sacrifices them for his own gain, they won’t be as willing to stand by his side.
Marrying Gia and killing Fino, will provide me with an inside hand. His men will become mine, and I will do the one thing someone like Fino would never do. Show them mercy.
“What about your mother?” Kenzo asks quietly. “If what Gia says is true ”
“It’s not,” I snap at him, narrowing my gaze. “She is doing what she needs to survive.”
The doubtful look both of my brothers give me wavers my resolve, but I won’t let it snap completely. My mother loved my father, there is no possible reason that I can think of that would make her betray him so viciously. Salvatore must have threatened to harm my sister, Antonia, if she didn’t comply. He would have known that her words would build a stronger truth than his.
“You have to be prepared that it might be the truth.” Kenzo’s hand rests gently on my shoulder. “Trust me, Kyōdai , it is better to prepare for it than to not see it coming.”
He’s right. The logical side of my mind comprehends the reality of his words, yet the tender corner of my heart, the one that adores his mother with unyielding devotion, refuses to accept the stark truth confronting him. As a child, I vividly recall my mother as a beacon of kindness and compassion. She was a woman who wore her emotions openly, her heart visible for all to see. I watched as she tended to the needs of the wives and daughters of my father’s Capos , her gentle touch and soothing words bringing comfort to all.
In no world can I imagine she would betray my father.
Or me.
Still, the dark thread of doubt lingers in the back of my mind, ready to be pulled at any moment. Kenzo never suspected his mother would betray him and look where we are now. Megumi’s actions have shaken our foundation and everything we have gained over the years. How much of what we have built is because of others like her moving in the shadows? How many of the ideas we put forward were truly ours and not some unseen manipulation .
Every enemy. Every ally. Every business.
Every single one of them must now be scrutinized with a discerning and critical eye, leaving no detail overlooked. What is worse is that we can’t trust the people in our own organization to undertake this task because we have no idea who is truly on our side.
“You’re right.” It is a heavy admission, but I make it. These men, the ones I call brother, will always tell me what I need to hear, even when I simply want to bury my head in the sand. They will never let me hide. “We need to set up a meeting with Ivankov in Boston.”
Kenzo nods and pulls out his phone, shooting off a quick message.
“We also need to have someone audit all of our businesses and associates, legal and otherwise,” I tell them. “I want someone to go through every enemy, every known associate, and see if any of those have been tainted by Megumi and the organization she worked for.”
Another mystery for us to solve. The mysterious organization my uncle and Kenzo’s mother are a part of. Taglia una testa e un’altra prenderà il suo posto.
I’ve seen that phrase before, a long time ago, when old traditions were rooted deep in the De Luca family. I never gave much thought to the whispers of the secret society when I was younger, and my father never gave me any indication he knew about it.
“Do you remember the old library at Elite?”
Adrian’s brows knitted into a thick cable, crossing his stormy blue eyes which are squinted mildly as he thinks back to our days at the academy. Kenzo is doing the same, dredging up the memories from so many years ago that are muddled with the grief of our father’s passing.
“I remember it being creepy and full of spiders,” Adrian jokes but I can tell he is still trying to recall the exact memories. The ones that led us to create the Sovereign Brotherhood.
“ Sub hoc principe iuramento stamus. Simul ut unum. Fratres in perpetuum ,” Kenzo recites quietly. “Under this sovereign oath, we stand. Together as one. Brothers forever. It was the oath of a fallen Roman society. But that isn’t what you wanted us to remember, is it?”
“There was a book there.”
With a swift motion, I snatch my laptop from the counter and carry it to the dining room. Placing it gently on the polished wooden table, I pull out a chair and settle into it, positioning myself comfortably in front of the screen. My fingers fly across the keyboard as I search for the file I need.
Bingo .
“The Camorra?” Adrian tilts his head to the side when I bring up the old Italian mafia information on my screen. “What do they have to do with this?”
“The Camorra as we know it today came together sometime in the 18 th century,” I tell them. “I came across it during my studies at Elite when I was researching old Italian families.”
Kenzo groans. “Delbadish and his ‘know where you come from’ assignment.” His face twists in distaste. “This is elementary school all over again with the family tree.”
All three of us chuckle. When you are part of a mafia family, school family tree assignments become complicated.
“Anyway.” I click to another screen. “I went searching for answers in that old library and came across an old Camorra book with ties to my family going back centuries. Behind this book, stashed in the back was this—” I point to the texts I have scanned onto my hard drive. ”
“That is some ye ‘old text, brother,” Adrian teases as he leans in for a closer look. “Shit, this is really old Italian.”
“The book is a handwritten account of one of the oldest secret societies in Italy,” I inform him. “The Geryon . It was founded sometime in the 14 th century in a Spanish prison.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Kenzo adds. “But it’s an old Italian myth. It was all traced back to a 19 th -century book by Victor de Fereal that was published in the 1850s.”
“That is what they wanted everyone to believe.”
Adrian and Kenzo share a doubtful roll of the eyes.
“Alright, you skeptics.” I shake my head and pull up another file. “I took the book to do more research and had the paper carbon dated. It’s legit, the paper ranging from the early 14 th century to the 19 th century where the last dated entry left off.”
“I’m lost right now,” Adrian admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Where are you going with all of this?”
“The Geryon book contained a meticulously detailed list of tallying members right up to the very last entry,” I inform them, my fingers deftly scrolling through the digital files until I locate the one I need. When the document finally loads, I lean closer to the screen, my finger tracing a slightly faded line where a familiar name is elegantly scrawled in ancient ink. The parchment appears weathered, its edges tinged with the sepia of time, and the ink, though faded, still holds a certain dignity.
Fastello De Luca.
Adrian and Kenzo lean closer, their eyes widening in amazement as they squint at the screen. Their breaths hitch slightly, disbelief and excitement coursing through them as they absorb the significance of the name.
“Isn’t that your great-great…fuck, even greater grandfather? The one who started the De Luca empire? ”
“Sure is.” I nod. “From what I can tell, he was part of the Geryon for years prior to his death. Now, I am assuming that this isn’t the last recorded statement. There must be more proof out there.”
I am certain there is more evidence waiting to be uncovered. A clandestine organization like the Geryon doesn’t simply dissolve and vanish into thin air. They evolve, burrowing deeper into the shadows and bribing those necessary to maintain their secrecy. In 2006, two historians penned a book that delved into the mysterious world of Spanish secret societies, weaving a narrative around how the only link to the Geryon society seemed to be a work of fiction. This revelation caused an uproar throughout Spain and Italy, with a flood of witnesses stepping forward to claim that the historians were concealing the society’s wrongdoings. These actions only served to cloak the Geryon in even darker, more impenetrable shadows than before.
Taglia una testa e un’altra prenderà il suo posto.
Cut off a head and another will take its place.
The motto of the Geryon , a phrase steeped in mystery and tradition, is the very same one etched into the polished gold of the ring my Uncle Salvatore wears. It’s a ring that once graced my father’s finger. This enigmatic inscription also adorns the intricately carved Medusa comb that Megumi gifted to Evaline. If the paths of the comb can be followed through whispers and shadows, then perhaps the secretive journey of the ring can be uncovered as well.
“Kenzo’s mother uttered a phrase that only members of the society would know,” I tell them, pulling up another image of a three-headed beast, not much different from a hydra. “The Geryon in Spanish mythology is a “many-headed beast” that is often associated with the Iberian Peninsula. In Greek mythology, it is the same beast who was so famously slain by Hercules.”
“So, you are telling me that your uncle and my mother are part of some older-than-dirt secret society that is what–? Hell-bent on controlling factions of the mafia all over the world?” Kenzo’s eyes hold a glint of doubt, but I can almost see the gears in his mind beginning to turn. He is trying to piece together the fragments of my wild theory, his thoughts slowly catching up to the whirlwind of ideas I have unleashed on them.
“No.” I give them the truth. “I think they want people to believe they are.”
Their eyes fix on me, filled with questions and curiosity, as if urging me to speak. I draw in a deep breath and release it slowly. My mind races, searching for the right words to articulate the thoughts swirling inside, trying to untangle the complexity of what I need to convey. “From what I’ve been able to dig up over the years, the Geryon is many branches, not just one.”
“Cut off one head and another takes its place,” Kenzo whispers, his voice barely audible yet heavy with realization. In that moment, a spark of understanding ignites within him, like a sudden flash of light piercing through the fog of his thoughts. The phrase echoes in his mind, resonating with a newfound clarity.
“Exactly.” I let out a long sigh. “Now, from what I can tell, the Italian-based Geryon has mostly devolved over the years and was obsolete until sometime in the 1970s.”
“Wasn’t that when your grandfather was murdered in Milan?”
Nodding, I pull up the reports that were filed by the police during the investigation. “He was gunned down in broad daylight and this—” I pull up an old crest, the very same one that is stamped on my uncle’s ring. “An all-seeing eye surrounded by snakes was carved into each bullet.”
Kenzo scoffs dismissively. “Cryptic bullshit.” Adrian nods in agreement, a scowl on his face. My grandfather was not the most admirable of men. He possessed a ruthless nature, a tyrant much like my uncle, yet even with his harsh ways, he did not deserve to meet such a brutal end, gunned down mercilessly as if he were no more than an animal. It was intended for my father to accompany him, but then he caught the flu just a few days before their planned departure. I relay this significant detail to my brothers, ensuring they grasp the gravity of the twist of events.
“That would have handed Salvatore immediate rule on a silver platter,” Adrian hisses, his voice taut with tension as his fists clench tightly at his sides. His knuckles whiten with the pressure, and a flicker of anger flashes in his eyes. “There wouldn’t have been a single soul left to contest him.
This intricate web of events has been unraveling for far longer than any of us could have possibly envisioned. In my world, a son killing his own father is almost beyond comprehension. Such a heinous act, driven solely by the insidious force of pure, unadulterated greed, defies the very fabric of familial bonds and moral decency. The thought alone sends shivers down my spine, painting a grim picture of ambition gone awry, where loyalty and love are sacrificed at the altar of avarice.
“If we can throw Salvatore off our trail, even just a little, we can gain the upper hand.” I turn in my seat to face them better. “He’ll know why I am going after Fino, but what he won’t see coming is our allies. The ones who will gather behind us. Salvatore has made many enemies, and if we do this right—if we keep our moves to the shadows while also making them known—we might just be able to take back what my uncle took.”
“Revenge for all of us.” Kenzo’s jaw tightens. “We need to let my mother free.”
“Why would you even think of doing that?” Adrian asks with a steady tone while waiting for Kenzo to elaborate.
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, but I can see the resolve painted on his face in steadfast determination. “Because she will spill every last secret. She will be the Judas whispering in his ear. We let her think she escaped of her own free will and then we track her to him. Let her lead us right through the gates.”
“A Trojan horse.” Adrian grins, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “I love it.”
Turning back to my computer, I prepare a software update on a small tracking device I had implanted in Megumi while she was knocked out cold before waking up in one of our warehouses. It is the same one my new little wife will be getting as well.
“She’ll be easy enough to track,” I tell them. “If we have it happen while we are gone in Boston, it will make it even less suspicious.”
Kenzo hesitates. He draws his gaze up to the second floor where Evaline is currently resting.
“I’ll send her to Vegas to be with Vanya,” Adrian informs him. “She’ll have our best guards. My home is a fortress, and my men will protect her.”
“Thank you.” The gratitude in Kenzo’s voice is nearly breathless, and his gaze lingers for several minutes before he turns back to the business at hand.
“Well—” Adrian crosses his arms against his chest and raises an expectant brow. “What is next, brat ?”
A spark of excitement ignites within me, flickering into a flame that sends shivers of anticipation coursing through my veins as I begin to set the first part of our plan into motion. The thought of what is about to unfold fills me with a twisted pleasure, like a predator savoring the hunt. Unfortunately, my little deer won’t share in this dark thrill; her experience will be quite different. Yet, the resistance she will inevitably mount will make the entire ordeal all the more exhilarating. The very idea of wielding my belt to mete out punishment again has my mouth watering, the anticipation almost palpable in the air.
“Next—” I lick my lips and smirk. “I’m getting married.”