Chapter 42
Forty-Two
The halls of my childhood home feel smaller than I remember. The grand estate that once loomed over me as a boy now seems… diminished. The walls, once lined with expensive paintings and polished wood paneling, feel cold. Lifeless.
Dario walks beside me, silent, letting me process as we move through the corridors. He knows better than to interrupt. He’s been at my side for years—through war, through bloodshed, through the careful and calculated dismantling of every empire that dared stand against me.
But this place… this is where it all began.
I drag my fingers along the banister as we climb the grand staircase. I remember gripping this railing as a child, my small hands barely able to wrap around the polished wood as my father guided me up each step.
“Stand tall, figlio mio. A De Luca never bows.”
Even as a child, I understood what he meant. There was no room for weakness in this family. No space for mercy. My father didn’t just raise a son. He built a weapon.
“This place doesn’t suit you anymore,” Dario murmurs beside me, his sharp gaze flicking over the grand foyer below.
“No,” I agree. “It never did.”
We stop at the double doors of my father’s old office. I hesitate for half a second before pushing them open.
The room is exactly how I remember it. A massive mahogany desk dominates the center, flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with ledgers, records—proof of every deal, every betrayal, every life my father crushed beneath his heel. The smell of aged leather and cigar smoke still lingers, despite the years that have passed.
I step inside, the ghost of my father’s voice whispering in my ears.
“One day, all of this will be yours.”
I loved him. I admired him. I feared him.
He taught me everything—how to read a man’s weakness in a single glance, how to make someone beg without ever lifting a weapon, how to control an empire with nothing more than a carefully placed threat.
“A leader doesn’t demand respect, figlio mio . He inspires it. Your men will follow you because they want to and not because you inspire fear.”
I approach the desk, running my hand over its surface. I remember sitting in that chair as a boy, my feet not even touching the floor, while my father towered over me, a smile on his face.
“A king must know how to kill, Vitali. Never let another man do what you are too afraid to do yourself. But always remember that mercy is just as powerful as a gun.”
I grip the edge of the desk, my jaw tightening.
My father ruled through loyalty but my uncle tried to lead through fear. He saw his own men as disposable. He believed power was maintained through bloodshed alone .
But I have learned something that neither of them could teach me. Power isn’t just about fear. It’s about control. It’s about knowing when to strike, when to withhold, when to destroy, and when to build.
Dario exhales beside me. “So, what now? You’ve taken back what’s rightfully yours. You have the power. The name. The respect. What do you want to do with it?”
I turn to face him, my decision already made.
“It’s time to change things,” I say. “The De Luca Empire doesn’t belong here anymore. It’s time to pass it on to someone new.”
Dario smirks. “And how do you plan to do that?”
I step around the desk, taking the seat my father once occupied.
By changing the status quo.
By handing it to someone I don’t want to lose but deserves what I am willing to reward.
I meet Dario’s gaze, my voice sharp, unyielding.
“We start by burning the old ways to the ground,” I tell him casually. “It’s yours, my friend. You will be the new Don. ”
Dario stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“You’re serious?” His voice is low, controlled, but there’s an edge of disbelief in it.
I lean back in the chair— his chair—my father’s throne that never truly belonged to me. It belonged to the man he wanted me to be, not the man I have become.
“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t,” I reply smoothly, my fingers tapping against the wood. “The De Luca empire is yours now.”
Dario scoffs, shaking his head. “You fought too damn hard for this. You took back your father’s empire, wiped out everyone who stood in your way, and now you’re just… handing it over?”
“Not just handing it over,” I correct him. “I’m giving it to the only man I trust to run it the way it should be run.”
He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his dark hair. I see the war in his eyes. He’s always been my right hand, my shadow, the man who stood beside me through every battle, every war, every blood-soaked decision. And now I’m asking him to step into the light. To be the king instead of the blade that guards him.
“I don’t know if I want this, V.” His voice is quieter now, hesitant.
I knew he’d say that.
Dario never wanted power. He was content in the background, enforcing my will, ensuring my enemies fell before they could become a real problem. He was the strategist, the ghost, the one who made sure no loose ends were left behind. But he’s also the only one capable of doing what needs to be done.
“You’re the only one who can keep this from falling apart,” I tell him. “If I dissolve the De Luca empire, it’ll create a power vacuum that’ll get a lot of people killed. But if you take control, the transition will be seamless. You’ve always been like a brother to me.”
He rubs a hand over his face, muttering a curse under his breath. “And what the hell are you going to do, huh? Walk away from all of this? Pretend like you don’t have blood in your veins?”
I give him a knowing look. “You already know the answer to that.”
His jaw clenches.
I stand, moving around the desk until I’m in front of him. “Gia is my priority now,” I say firmly. “Italy holds too much pain for her and honestly, I don’t think I ever planned on taking the seat back. I wanted revenge and now I have it. I have the brotherhood and with you here, in Italy, all of us will become more powerful. Together.”
Something flickers in his gaze—understanding, maybe. A silent acknowledgment of all the things we’ve built back in America. Dario has never felt at home in Miami like I do. He’s always longed to walk the cobblestone streets and surround himself with the beauty our ancestors built.
We both knew this life would never let us go. But this is the closest I can come to walking away.
Dario exhales heavily, looking around the office, taking in what this means. “And if I say no?”
“You won’t.”
A beat of silence.
Then, finally, he nods. Just once.
“Fine,” he mutters. “I’ll run it. But don’t expect me to start wearing suits and making speeches.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He shakes his head, muttering another curse before extending his hand. “You really trust me with all of this?”
I grip his hand tightly. “With my life.”
And just like that, the De Luca empire changes hands.