Chapter 51 RAFFAEL
Cleaning up Roberto’s and Giovanni’s mess isn’t easy. The empire I’ve inherited is bloody, fractured, and teetering on collapse. Taking it over isn’t just about sitting on a throne; it’s about making sure that throne doesn’t crumble beneath me.
First, there are the bodies. Figuratively and literally. Some of Roberto’s men have already fled, some try to play both sides, and a few—too loyal, too stupid—have to be put down.
I don’t like killing people for sport. But this isn’t sport.
This is structure. Every empire needs a spine.
Mine needs to be rebuilt from shattered bones.
I spent the first week gauging the loyalties of the remaining crew.
I call in names, watch reactions, study eye twitches, and measure sweat.
Who flinches when I say Roberto’s name? Who hesitates when I give an order?
Who shows up late—or not at all? Those are the first to go.
Then come the replacements.
I don’t bring in my tech guys. This world doesn’t run on coders and crypto analysts.
It runs on power, presence, and a willingness to bleed.
So, I pull from a different pool, namely, the men I’ve tested during my years of building security and black market tech logistics.
Quiet monsters. Loyal to me, and me alone.
The Giordano’s business structure is vast but badly compartmentalized.
Drugs. Prostitution. Human trafficking. Each segment runs like its own kingdom, which is fine until its king gets sloppy.
The Venezuelans took over the human trafficking under Edoardo's watch, and he has made it clear that it’s to stand as it is, which suits me just fine, to a degree.
On paper, it’s fine. I don’t want that stain on any ledger with my name near it.
Not now. Not ever. But letting Valverde carve out a slice of my map just because they slipped in while it was lying dormant?
That reads as weakness. And weakness invites teeth.
So no, I won’t run their product, and I won’t take a percentage, but I’m not leaving their footprint on my floors either.
I’ll salt the ground and pave over it before I let that stand.
Timing matters, though. The Venezuelans will have to wait until I've dealt with Edoardo. There is still the riddle of why Roberto and Donna Margarita were in Venezuela. What is Donna Margarita's connection to the Valverde?
Sophia told me to get to the table first—the other capos, open support—before I start cutting arteries.
She’s right. You steady the inside before you push on the outside.
I thought Marcello would be my first conversation—blood and debt, and all that—but the city likes its ironies.
It sends me Toni DeLuna instead. He comes to me one evening while I'm going through Roberto's old office, laptop, phone, and files. I expect tension. Instead, he pours us both a drink like we’re old friends.
"So, how does the new king of the castle like his lair?" he says, lounging in the chair opposite mine. "You look more comfortable than I expected."
"You offering congratulations or condolences?"
He smirks. "Neither. I'm offering intel."
I listen.
Toni knows the Giordano empire better than anyone.
As their money launderer, he has his fingerprints on every dirty dollar, every bank transfer, every hidden asset.
He isn’t loyal to Roberto; he’s loyal to the system.
And when that system cracks, he looks for the one most capable of holding it together.
"The drugs still move. That pipeline's strong. The prostitution ring… it needs cleanup, but it's salvageable."
I lean back. "And the third pillar?"
He gives a humorless laugh. "Gone."
We're talking about the human trafficking. I probably already know more about it than Toni does, but I wouldn't be where I am if I hadn't listened to men willing to talk.
"Yeah. After Enrico killed Giovanni, the Venezuelans took advantage of the vacuum. They own it now."
I don't need to pretend to tighten my jaw. The mention of the Venezuelans does that to me. Every. Single. Time. Aurelio and I still have unfinished business. Nobody makes me bleed and gets away with it. Besides, I made him a promise. "Nobody did anything about it? Edoardo let it slide?"
Toni’s expression flattens. "Edoardo did nothing. Worse, he told us not to interfere. Called it a strategic retreat."
"Cowardice, you mean." Interesting. Let's see how deep Toni's dislike for Edoardo runs.
When he doesn’t disagree, I press, "Why are you telling me this?"
Toni shrugs. "Because you might be the first man in this family who actually understands power. You’re not blind with ego like Roberto was. Or neutered like Edoardo."
That confirms what I already suspect. Toni isn’t happy with the Don.
I know part of it is personal; Carlos Orsi killed Toni’s father, and Edoardo never allowed him to retaliate.
As a soldier, all the intel I got was that Edoardo condoned it.
Through my own research, I discovered that Carlos initially accused Edoardo of ordering the hit, but later recanted.
I also found out that Carlos had to cede his LA territory to Toni.
Toni hasn’t forgotten.
Neither have I.
He keeps looking at me, like he's trying to recall someone's name. "I know you from somewhere." He frowns.
I decide to let him off the hook. "Probably from the clip sent to you showing Carlos' demise."
He does a double-take. “That was you?” he asks, full of incredulity. "How the hell did you get in with the Russians?”
I let the edge of a smile show. “Different route than you. Same results.”
He huffs, not quite a laugh. “You seem to like side doors.”
“Any bad feelings that I took Carlos off the board?” I need to know, because if things go like I hope, we need to work together.
Toni leans back, weighs the question, then shrugs one shoulder. “Carlos was a debt that needed to be paid by any means.” His gaze narrows. “How’d it feel?”
I let the smile widen a fraction. “Like a fucking orgasm.”
That gets a real laugh from him; it’s short and involuntary, but it’s there. Then he sobers. “How’d you stand next to Sokol without him trying to own you?”
“Favor economy,” I reply. “I paid my toll.”
Toni studies me like a man appreciating a piece of engineering he didn’t commission. “Grigori did mention American steel,” he mutters. “Looks like he wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Steel bends if you heat it right,” I point out.
He nods once, accepts the gift and the boundary at the same time. “Fair.” A beat. “If you were worried I’d be angry that you took the kill… I’m not. It was clean business."
“Good,” I say. “Because we have other problems to take care of."
He nods.
But first comes the Giordano business; we spend hours that night going over the structure. Who’s dead. Who’s loyal. Who can be flipped. We map routes, assets, laundering hubs, and compromised officials. It’s like rebuilding a crashed server, piece by piece.
Three more die.
One tries to steal from me. One lies to my face. And one sells girls underage, which even in this world is a death sentence.
By the end of the second week, the message is clear: There’s a new king in town.
And I don’t rule with mercy. I rule with precision.
With Toni’s help, I restructure the flow of cash and product. We shut down unsafe brothels and reinforce the profitable ones. We cut middlemen, renegotiate supplier deals, and tighten the drug supply line to minimize leaks. The empire isn’t just running again; it’s becoming profitable.
But I’m not done. The Venezuelans are still a thorn in my side, and from Toni, I find out not just in mine.
He invites me to a meeting with him and Stephano.
Toni pours drinks, swirling the glass slowly.
"I don’t trust those fuckers. The Venezuelans.
They're too aggressive. Too loud. And too careless. That’s not street-level muscle, that’s strategy. "
He’s right.
I exhale slowly; we’ve arrived at the time in the game where it’s my turn to lay some of my cards on the table. "They’re not just some gang. Roberto and Donna Margarita met with Don Aurelio Valverde—El León—in Caracas. Edoardo sent them."
Toni’s brows shoot up. "Valverde? As in the Lion of Caracas?"
"The same."
"Then we’re not looking at a turf war," Stephano says grimly. "We’re looking at a coup. And Edoardo opened the door for them."
Toni leans forward; his eyes gleam with something between fear and fury. "Tell us everything you know."
I don't. Not all of it. I keep Sophia out—the reason why I was there—but I give them enough. And that’s when I know for sure, Toni and Stephano aren't just going to help me stabilize the empire.
They’re going to help me take it back.
In the meantime, I'm going to make Sophia my official fiancée.
I don't like the thought of our upcoming marriage being just a done deal.
Something that was decided out of politics and convenience, no matter how much we love each other.
Or probably because of it. I need to do something special, make her feel special.
God knows she deserves it after what she's been through, and I have just the right plan in mind.