Luca
I drive away from Elena's house, the scent of her still clinging to my skin.
Seven years I spent trying to forget her, and one night back in her arms erases all that wasted time like it never happened.
Waking up beside her this morning felt like coming home, the soft morning light across her face, her hair spilled across the pillow.
I almost called my father to cancel brunch.
I wanted to stay there, to make her breakfast, to be there when the kids returned. To start building something real.
But duty calls. It always does in this life.
I arrive at my father’s house, the place where I grew up, the place that will be mine someday.
It’s surreal to think about. Don Luca Monti.
As a kid, I used to pretend to be the Don the way other kids might pretend to be a fireman or the president. But now it’s on the verge of becoming real.
I head upstairs to shower and change.
Water cascades over me, washing away the night but not the memory of Elena's touch.
I dress in dark slacks and a crisp shirt, but no tie or jacket. This is a family meal, at least to start.
I look at myself in the mirror wondering if the man staring back is truly ready to be Don.
My eyes are harder and don’t hide the responsibility I feel right now. But a part of me is still here.
Elena called me romantic.
I’ve always been a man to wear my heart on my sleeve, whether it was warm toward her and family or cold, exacting revenge or payback.
Yes, I can do the job.
Today, I'll tell my father it's time to step down. Today, I'll take on the mantle I've been groomed for since birth. Today, I become Don Monti in all but name.
And somehow, in the midst of all this, I need to clear my name, protect Elena and her children, and maybe, if I'm lucky, build the family I've always wanted with the only woman I've ever loved.
I take a deep breath and head downstairs to face my future.
I descend the stairs just as the front door opens, Marco and Gabriella stepping through with little Sabina bundled in Gabriella’s arms.
My sister's face lights up when she sees me, her smile genuine despite the magnitude of what we're about to do.
"Looking more and more like a Don everyday," Gabriella says, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek.
Marco nods at me, his eyes communicating a silent question about my readiness for today's conversation.
I give him a subtle nod back.
"Ah, visitors!" My father's voice carries from the hallway. He stands there in pressed slacks and a cashmere sweater, looking every bit the powerful Don he's been for decades. For a moment, my resolve wavers.
“Your granddaughter is dying to see you,” Gabriella says, walking over to greet our father.
My father's brow furrows. "Granddaughter? When did this happen?"
The room goes still. Gabriella's smile freezes on her face.
But I’ve got to hand it to her, she’s a pro at dealing with him when he’s like this.
“Three months ago. Remember, Marco knocked me up and—”
My father laughs suddenly. "Of course, of course! Little Sabina! I was just teasing you all." But the momentary confusion in his eyes tells a different story.
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of what I must do. This man taught me everything.
How to tie my shoes, how to clean a gun, how to command respect, how to lead. And now I must tell him he’s unfit to lead this family.
Gabriella places Sabina in his arms, and my father's face softens.
His large hands, once capable of ordering death with a simple gesture, now cradle this tiny life with gentleness.
"She has the Monti eyes," he says proudly, and for a moment, he's fully present.
I force a smile, hiding the fracture in my heart. This is the right decision for the family, for business, for La Corona. But watching my father coo at his granddaughter, I've never felt more like a traitor.
“Brunch is ready,” one of the kitchen staff announces.
We head to the dining room where my father takes his seat at the head of the table.
As the first-born son and heir, I sit to his right, with Gabriella to his left and Marco next to her. Sabina sits in a carrier set on a stand between them.
We eat a feast of eggs Benedict, waffles, bacon, sausage, and fruit as my father tells a story about a close call from the 90s.
His hands are animated, his eyes bright as he gives us a play by play in outwitting the FBI.
For a moment, he's the father I remember.
“It was like the keystone cops, the way their cars piled up and we just drove off into the sunset.” He laughs, slapping the table.
I smile. The story is good, except he's mixed up names and dates. The incident happened in 2005, not 1992, and it was local police, not the FBI.
“You were always the best at evasion,” Marco agrees, smoothly covering the inconsistency. "You taught us all well, Antonio."
My father beams with pride, then suddenly frowns at his plate. "Is this how Maria makes eggs now? Something's different."
"It's eggs Benedict, Dad," Gabriella explains gently. "Your favorite Sunday brunch. Same as always."
"Of course, of course." He waves dismissively, but I catch the flash of confusion in his eyes.
I reach for my water glass, needing something to do with my hands. How many more moments like this will we have?
How many more Sunday brunches where he's mostly himself?
How long before he’s forgotten everything, forgotten us?
"Luca, you're quiet today," my father observes, his gaze suddenly sharp. "Something on your mind?"
I force a smile. "Just thinking about business."
"Always working!" He turns to Marco. "This boy never learned to relax. Gets that from me, I suppose."
Marco catches my eye across the table, a silent question. Now? I give a subtle shake of my head. Not yet. Not while he's having a good day.
The conversation shifts to Sabina's latest milestones, and I watch my father's face light up with genuine joy.
His hands, once steady enough to fire a gun with deadly accuracy, now tremble slightly as he reaches for his coffee cup.
As the meal ends, Gabriella's expression shifts, her eyes darting between our father and me.
She sets down her napkin, drawing a breath that signals she's about to broach the subject we came here to discuss.
"Dad, there's something important we need to talk about regarding the business—"
"Actually," I interject, "I was hoping to have a word with you in private, Dad. In your office, if you don't mind."
Gabriella's eyes flash with frustration. We had agreed to present a united front, but something in me can't bear to watch my father's dignity be stripped away over brunch.
"I think we should all discuss this together," Gabriella counters, her tone measured but firm. "After all, this affects the entire family."
My father looks between us, confusion briefly clouding his features before his natural authority reasserts itself. "What's this about?"
"Business matters," I say simply, standing from my chair. "Some decisions that need your input."
Marco catches my eye across the table, and I see understanding there. He places a hand on Gabriella's arm, a subtle restraint.
"Let them talk," he says quietly. "Luca needs to do this alone."
I nod gratefully at Marco.
"Fine," Gabriella concedes. "But don't think this means you're handling everything alone, Luca. We're in this together."
"I know," I assure her. My father always indulged Gabriella, appreciated her intelligence and strength.
I’ll do the same, but in this moment, I need to show my strength and honor my father by doing this one-on-one.
My father rises. "You all act like this is a funeral procession. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle."
As I follow him down the hallway toward his office, I watch his confident stride, the set of his shoulders. Still proud, still powerful.
I wonder if he'll hate me for what I'm about to do. I wonder if I'll hate myself.
I close the office door behind us. This room has always been the heart of our operation.
It’s where decisions are made, where I learned what it meant to be a Monti.
My father strides behind his desk, taking a seat in his leather chair. He looks every bit the Don.
I remain standing, gathering my courage. "Everything I am, everything I know about leadership, about loyalty, about family, it all comes from you. You taught me how to command respect without demanding it. How to see three moves ahead in any situation. How to protect what's ours."
My father watches me, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"The way you built our legitimate businesses alongside the other operations.
The way you've maintained peace with the other families.
The respect you've earned from everyone in La Corona…
" I pause, swallowing hard as my nerve wavers.
"I've been studying you my whole life. I’m so proud to be your son. "
Something shifts in his expression, a softening around the eyes, a subtle release of tension in his shoulders.
"Why does this sound like goodbye, Luca?" His voice is quiet but clear. “Are you returning to Italy because now isn’t a good time?”
I move closer. “No, I’m not returning to Italy. Last Christmas, you asked me to stay. You said it was time for me to step up.”
“And you have. I’m proud of you, Son.”
His words fill me with warmth. I hope he’ll feel the same once I tell him that it’s time for him to retire. “I’m glad to hear that, because I think it’s time for me to fully take the lead in the family.” It sounds greedy to say it like that, but I’d rather sound selfish than tell him he’s infirm.
His breath hitches, telling me he understands what I’m saying. “I don’t know that we’re there yet.”
“You didn’t recognize Sabina earlier. Last week, you called Maria by Mom's name. Three days ago, you thought it was 1997.”
He waves dismissively. "Small lapses. Everyone forgets things."
"It's more than that." I grab a chair and pull it up next to him. "You're the strongest man I've ever known. But even the strongest men need to recognize when it's time for a change. You’ve done a remarkable job. Truly. Now you can retire and enjoy being a grandfather."
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see fear there.
It’s something I've never witnessed in him and I hate that I’m the one putting it in him.
"I'm losing pieces of myself," he admits. "Some days, I wake up and don't know where I am. What happens when I forget who I am? When I forget you? Gabriella? Everything I've built?"
My heart cracks at his vulnerability. This titan of a man, reduced to this.
"That's why I'm here. That's what you prepared me for. To carry on when you can't."
His eyes search mine, pride mingling with resignation. "I know you will, figlio mio. You're ready. More ready than I was when I took over."
"Tell me about that day," I say. "When you became Don."
A smile curves on his lips. "I was terrified. Didn't sleep for three days before the ceremony. Your grandfather, now there was a hard man. Not like me with you. He never showed weakness, never admitted doubt. Wouldn’t even go to the doctor, which is what killed him."
He shakes his head. "I thought I knew everything. Turned out I knew nothing."
"I feel the same way now," I admit.
"That's good. The moment you think you know everything is the moment you begin to fail.
" He leans forward, suddenly focused with startling clarity.
"Remember this, Luca. Power isn't about making everyone fear you.
It's about making the right people fear you while ensuring those you protect love you. Balance, that's the key to everything."
My love for him is overwhelming. My fear of his losing himself is equally as consuming. “Thank you.”
He straightens in his chair, shoulders squaring with authority. "We should meet with the capos this week. Make it official before rumors start. The men need to hear it from me that you speak with my voice now."
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
"Many fathers in our world don't live to see their sons rise to power," he says, voice filled with pride. "I'm fortunate to witness yours, to know the Monti family remains in good hands."
My heart swells with gratitude for this gift, this moment of passing the torch with dignity rather than tragedy. In our world, peaceful transitions are rare blessings.
"I won't let you down," I promise, the words feeling inadequate.
"I know." He smiles, and for a moment, he is entirely himself again. "But Luca, you now need to think of the future. Who will carry on after you?”
“I’m working on that,” I say to him, thinking of Elena.
He arches a brow. “Are you now? Anyone I know?”
I nod, but I don’t tell him. I don’t want to expose Elena when she’s afraid that our connection could be dangerous to her children. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
He lets out a hearty laugh.
The door opens and Gabriella sweeps in, clearly unable to wait a moment longer.
Marco follows, his expression apologetic.
“Come in, come in.” My father rises from his chair.
Gabriella looks from me to him. “Is everything okay?”
"It's time," my father announces without preamble. "Luca will assume leadership of our family operations next week. We'll gather the captains in the next few days for the formal transition."
Gabriella's eyes widen, darting between us. "Are you sure?"
I glare at her for questioning this when she’s been pushing me to do it for over a year.
"More certain than I've been about anything in months," he replies with a wry smile. "My mind is still my own today, and I'm using it to make this decision while I can."
Marco steps forward. "Antonio, your leadership has been the foundation of La Corona’s strength for decades. The respect you've earned cannot be measured. Speaking personally, I wouldn’t be the man I am today without your support and guidance."
My father nods, accepting the tribute with dignity. "And now that strength passes to my son with my full confidence."
He motions to his chair. “It’s all yours.”
Pride swells in my chest at his words. Even in stepping down, he remains powerful.
We spend the afternoon together planning the ritual transfer for the men, while sharing stories from the past.
My father recalls business triumphs and family celebrations, his memory mostly clear.
Gabriella sits next to Dad who holds Sabina, fully embracing being a grandfather.
Marco watches, his love for his wife and my father evident.
Watching them, I feel an unfamiliar lightness.
For the first time in years, I'm not running from my past or fighting against my future. I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.
Only one thing is missing. Elena.
I imagine her here beside me, her hand in mine as we navigate this new chapter together.
The kids running through the halls of this house, filling it with laughter.
More than ever, I want her to be part of this world I'm inheriting.