Luca
I trace my fingers along the smooth curve of Elena's spine as she sleeps beside me, memorizing every inch of her like I'm afraid she'll vanish if I blink.
But damn, I don't want to.
It’s too perfect to have her in my arms again. For so fucking long, I’ve waited for this, waited to hold her and build a life with her.
And of course, to clear my name and make someone pay for all I lost.
It’s unfortunate that in doing the latter, I’m jeopardizing the former. But I won’t feel like I’ve fully regained my life until I’ve achieved both.
I ease myself from the bed, careful not to wake her.
The floorboards creak under my weight as I gather my clothes.
As much as I want to stay, I’m not sure how to explain being naked in bed if one of the kids catches me.
My shirt still smells like her perfume as I slip it on.
Sweet and familiar, like coming home.
It makes me think that sometime soon, we’ll have to explain to the kids why I’m in her bed.
Or better yet, I’ll move her to mine.
There’s plenty of space in the house, and I’m sure my father would enjoy having the kids around.
The conversation we had before I pulled her into my arms replays on a loop.
Someone is trying to tear La Corona apart, and everyone has their theories.
Is it the FBI?
A rival organization?
Or someone within our ranks?
Elena went so far as to suggest some might think it’s me.
Fucking hell. I can’t seem to get a break when it comes to my reputation within La Corona.
How am I going to succeed at being a Don with that hanging over me?
I pause at Elena’s bedroom door, looking back at her sleeping form. I'm hit with a wave of protectiveness so fierce it steals my breath.
I'll clear my name.
I'll become Don.
I'll find whoever's trying to destroy La Corona.
And then I'll come back for her and the kids and make us a family.
The next morning, I dress, have breakfast, and then head to my father’s office.
We haven’t had the ceremonial passing of the torch yet, but for all intents and purposes, I’m running the family now.
I ease into my father's chair, running my fingers over the worn leather armrests.
Tomorrow, this seat becomes officially mine.
Don Monti.
There’s an excitement to the idea, and of course, worry. Will I be able to come anywhere close to being the Don my father was?
My phone vibrates against the desk. Checking the caller ID, I see it’s my PI, Joe Longo.
"What do you have for me?" I answer.
“I found an ex-con who once shared a cell with Umberto Vitale,” Joe reports. “Carl Bishop. Just got released last month after serving seven years for armed robbery."
My pulse quickens although I’m not sure why. Would Umberto have shared anything with a cellmate? "And?"
“Says he might have some information. I can meet him—”
“No. I want to meet him.” I need to hear directly from the man who would have been one of the last to see Umberto alive. "Where can I find him?"
"He’s in Jersey.” Joe rattles off an address. “It’s a shithole efficiency.”
“Thank you, Joe.”
“Let me know what else you need.”
When we hang up, I sit back in the chair.
The timing couldn't be worse.
I have a shit-ton of work today.
Meetings. Paperwork. Making sure I’m caught up on all aspects of the family’s businesses.
But this could be the break I need.
Maybe Umberto said something that can clear my name.
Although, I suppose I have to question the word of an ex-con.
Unfortunately, seeing Carl Bishop will have to wait.
I spend the day in a whirlwind of preparations.
Meeting with captains who look at me with varying degrees of respect and uncertainty.
Reviewing ledgers with Nic, who I’ll be promoting to underboss once I’m Don.
My father joins me for some of it, occasionally lucid enough to offer guidance. By evening, exhaustion consumes me.
Even so, I want to see Elena and the kids.
But I don’t call her.
She’s fearful of my pursuit of the person who ruined seven years of my life. I should respect her concerns.
As long as I'm digging into Umberto's death, she wants distance.
Is my quest worth it? What if clearing my name costs me Elena all over again? What if pursuing the truth destabilizes the delicate balance we've maintained between our families?
La Corona has survived for generations because we've chosen cooperation over conflict.
My investigation threatens that peace.
The truth about who betrayed Umberto Vitale could heal old wounds or rip them wider.
It could restore my honor or destroy what's left of it. It could bring Elena back to me or push her away forever.
I give myself tonight to be alone, to give Elena space and to prepare for tomorrow's ceremony.
Perhaps a night of reflection will change how I feel about things. Not about Elena, of course.
I’ll always love her and want her. But maybe I’ll let this issue of Umberto go.
Elena is right. Being Don is going to take a lot of my time and mental energy.
The next morning, I stand at the center of our family's grand hall, all of a sudden feeling the weight of what’s about to happen.
Did my father feel like this?
Did the other Dons?
I realize it was probably worse for Marco, Dom, Leo, and my father as they were thrust unexpectedly into their Donships following the deaths of their fathers.
Nic and my father’s other closest, most trusted captains are here. La Corona is here as well.
The most powerful men in New York—hell, along the Eastern Seaboard—are assembled in this one room, all here to watch my father retire and hand the reins to me.
My father steps into the center of the room, and everyone falls silent. Even as he’s withering away, he can command respect.
"I've watched my son grow from a headstrong boy into a man of principle. He’s grown and strengthened Monti businesses around the world. He understands leadership, power, and protection.”
The assembled captains listen with reverence. Even the members of La Corona stand attentive as my father speaks of the future.
"La Corona survives because we choose family over feuds," he continues, his eyes finding mine. "Because we remember that divided, we fall. United, we stand unbreakable."
He looks down at his hand, at the ring that represents the head of the family.
For a moment, he hesitates and my heart breaks for him. But then he slides the ring from his finger.
"With this ring, I entrust you with our legacy," he says, placing it in my palm. "Lead with wisdom. Protect what matters. Remember who we are."
I slip the ring on, for a moment feeling unworthy. “I’ll protect the family with my life, lead the business with strength and wisdom.”
“I know you will.” My father puts his hand on my shoulder and kisses me on one cheek and then the other. “Don Monti.”
My stomach does a complete loop at my father calling me Don Monti.
“Let us celebrate my son,” my father says. At that moment, servants enter with champagne.
Congratulations flow around me. Marco shakes my hand. “I’ve learned all I know from your father, as I know you have. You’ll be a fine Don, Luca.”
“Thank you.”
“Don Monti.” Each of the soldiers takes a turn shaking my hand and showing their allegiance to me.
It hits me again. Don Monti. The title is officially mine now.
Dom approaches me. His handshake is firm, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. “Congratulations, Don Monti. Your father has left impressive shoes to fill."
I match his gaze. "I intend to honor his legacy."
But I see reservation in his expression.
This is the reality of my inheritance.
Not just power and respect, but suspicion and politics.
“Can I speak to you in private?”
I follow Dom's subtle gesture to step aside from the celebration. His face shifts from the public mask of respect to something harder, more calculating.
"I'll be direct," Dom says. "Your investigation into Umberto's death needs to end. Now."
The bluntness catches me off guard, but more than that is the realization that Elena must have told him what I was up to.
It feels like a betrayal even as I understand Elena’s reliance upon and loyalty to Dom.
He protected her when I couldn't.
"I know you have no concern for my reputation, but I find it interesting how little the Vitale family cares about the murder of one of their own."
"You're digging up graves that should stay buried." Dom's voice remains level, but there's steel beneath it. "The peace between our families is fragile, Luca. My father was no saint, but the men loyal to him still hold significant power in my organization."
I find his comment fascinating, and it makes me think my father was right in that Aldo was behind Umberto’s murder. “I’d think they’d want the truth too, unless you’re suggesting Aldo—”
“I’m not suggesting anything except that you’re on a fool’s mission.”
"I have a right to know who set me up," I counter. "Seven years of my life were stolen. Right now, I’m taking over my family while members of La Corona look at me with suspicion. How can I be an effective member with lies hanging over me?"
Dom steps closer. "You're risking everyone's future for your pride. La Corona has enemies enough without us turning on each other over ancient history."
"Ancient?" I nearly laugh. "Your cousin still looks at me like I'm responsible for her father's death."
"Leave Elena out of this." His tone sharpens. "She's been through enough."
I clench my jaw. "I don't intend to hurt her or anyone else. But the truth—"
"The truth?" Dom interrupts. "No, this is about revenge. Because from where I stand, your interest in clearing your name coincides suspiciously with all the trouble La Corona's been having."
My blood runs cold. "What exactly are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting that someone wants us divided. Someone with a grudge. Someone with something to prove." His eyes never leave mine. "Interesting timing for you to return from Italy and start stirring up old wounds."
My hands curl into fists at my sides. "You think I'm behind the attacks on our families?” My voice drops dangerously low. "I've given everything to La Corona."
"So did your father. But you're not him." Dom's words cut deep. "Antonio Monti understood when to let sleeping dogs lie."
I’m struck again by the idea that my father knew more than he let on and instead of fighting for my innocence, for my honor, he sent me to Italy.
I step forward, close enough to see the flecks of amber in Dom's eyes. "I'm not my father. And if you think I'd betray La Corona for personal vengeance, you don't know me at all."
“That’s the problem, Luca. No one knows you.”
“Well, now you will.”
Dom holds my gaze, neither of us willing to back down. The celebration continues around us, oblivious to the chasm opening between two of La Corona's pillars.
"I spent seven years in exile because someone needed a scapegoat," I say, my voice low but steady as Dom turns to leave. "I won't be that convenient target again. I've earned this ring, this title, and I'll be damned if I let anyone, including you, question my loyalty to La Corona."
Dom reassesses me with narrowed eyes. "Your father trusted me."
"My father trusted everyone until they gave him reason not to. I'm starting from the opposite position."
The tension between us crackles.
"You have no idea what forces you're playing with, Luca. Some truths are buried for a reason."
"Is that a threat?" I don't back down, meeting his gaze with equal intensity.
“Ahem.” Marco joins us in the corner. "Gentlemen, your absence is being noticed. The new Don Monti should be celebrating with his guests, not hiding in the corner."
Dom's face transforms instantly into a pleasant mask. "Of course. I was just offering my congratulations in private."
I force my features to mirror his civility, though inside I’m boiling over in anger. "And I appreciate it, Don Vitale."
Dom leaves with a nod. The triumph of my ascension is now tainted with doubt and simmering anger.
“That looked intense,” Marco says, a smile on his face, but I can tell it’s for show. “Please don’t tell me you’re discussing your mission to clear your name by finding Umberto’s killer.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you know about it?”
Marco stares at me with a mixture of confusion and concern.
“Because everyone around this is telling me to let things stay buried. What’s buried, Marco?”
“I don’t know, but everyone is right. Some things should stay in the past. Forge forward.”
“Not while what’s buried brings a stain to my reputation.”
He blows out a breath. “You’re as bad as your sister.” He finishes his champagne. “Come on, join the party at least, Don Monti.”
I return to the group. Glasses clink, hands shake, smiles flash. No one would guess that minutes ago, Dom and I were on the verge of shattering decades of peace.
I don’t want to blow up La Corona, but I’ve waited too long to reclaim my name. Now that I have the power, I won't waste it.
Don Monti isn't just a title I've inherited. It's a weapon I intend to wield.
Let Dom think what he wants.
The truth is coming, whether La Corona is ready for it or not.