51. Lucas
CHAPTER 51
Lucas
I walk into the room, the weight of my news pressing down on me like a ton of bricks. Isabella and Ricardo Mancini sit at the long wooden table, their eyes locked on me. Isabella's gaze is piercing, her dark eyes searching for answers I'm not sure I can give.
"Ricardo, Isabella," I start, my voice steady but my heart pounding. "Dante and Isabella have agreed to our terms."
Isabella's eyes narrow. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "How do we know we can trust them?"
I slide my phone to them. Pictures of Luciano. "If they break their word, I promised to do the same to their entire family."
"Madonna Santa," Ricardo's breath hitches in his chest as he gazes at the grotesque images before him. The bright red blood seems to flow off the screen and stain his hands, causing a pang of sadness to wash over him.
For a moment, my own heart echoes with the grief that fills his pupils - the deep ache of loss that I know all too well. It reminds me of when my mother passed away, leaving a desolate void in my life. Or when I accepted that I didn’t have a father. And then again, when I gave up the opportunity for a chance at love and happiness with Serafina. Each memory brings its own hollow emptiness and aches in my chest.
The rustling of paper coming from Benjamin and Ethan snaps me back to the present. They are deep in conversation, strategizing tirelessly to secure a blessing from the East Coast mafia—the one thing that would bring recognition and protection to the Mancini family. This coveted position as head of the local union not only guarantees us acknowledgement and protection from the east coast mafias, but also solidifies our legitimate business in Oakland and beyond. And with their connections, securing the position is practically guaranteed.
"Lucas," Isabella interjects, her voice slicing through the room like a knife. "This is… a miracle."
"Yeah," I reply, my tone now softer. "It is." The end of a generations-long war finally seems within our reach. Ricardo looks up from the paperwork Benjamin and Ethan have now given him for review, his eyes conveying what his mouth can't - deep gratitude.
"But … let's not get ahead of ourselves," I caution, gesturing towards Benjamin and Ethan. "Without that role, all of this will be for nothing." I've learned to celebrate only when something concrete is before us.
"He's right," Ricardo adds, his eyes softening slightly.
I stand tall and confident in front of the room, my voice ringing out with conviction. "And once you have it," I remind them, my eyes scanning each face for agreement. "The Fallen Angels will fully support your expansion plans to the entire West Coast." My words hang in the air, heavy with promise. The room falls silent, all eyes locked on me as I wait for their response.
"Benjamin, Ethan," the sound of Isabella's voice cuts through the thick silence, her authoritative tone snapping them to attention. "Secure those roles immediately."
"Consider them yours," Benjamin replies with a slight smile, his fingers already dialing a number on his phone.
I watch as Isabella turns to face me, her features betraying nothing. Her eyes seem to hold a thousand thoughts and emotions at once. She speaks softly, but her words are like a weighty secret between us. "Thank you."
I nod slightly, trying to downplay the significance of what we've just done. But deep down, it feels like a monumental moment for all of us. A silent understanding passes between us, unspoken yet felt in every fiber of our beings. "De nada," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
An act of kindness that means more than any words could express.
"How can we ever repay you, Lucas?" Isabella's question hangs in the air, charged with sincerity and genuine gratitude. Her tone is devoid of any transactional edge as if offering something in return would be an honor rather than a burden.
"Repay?" I echo, caught off guard by the directness. For a second, I let myself imagine a life free of the shadows that have cringed at me for several months. But reality snaps back quickly - some things can't be undone, ties that can't be severed so easily. "Yeah," I continue, my voice steadying. "I guess there's something you can do."
"Name it," Isabella says, leaning forward slightly, her interest piqued.
"Freedom," I say, my voice steady but my heart pounding in my chest. "That's what I want. Isabella, it's time you honored your family’s promise. I want to be free of being your sicario."
"Lucas," Isabella's voice is sharp and her eyes narrow in a way that makes me uneasy. "You know that's not something we just... give."
"Yeah, well, I'm not begging." I step closer to their seats, feeling the weight of the room press down on me. Ricardo's eyes bore into my own, and I know he's waiting for my next move. "Are you going to honor your end go the bargain?"
Isabella tilts her head, considering. Her elegance is a sharp contrast to the blood on my hands.
"Anything else to add, Lucas? What more could you possibly want?"
"Serafina," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. There's no easy way to say it, no perfect moment. "I want Serafina."
"Che diavolo?" Ricardo mutters what the hell as he stands up and takes a step toward me, but Isabella raises a hand to stop him.
"Explain yourself, Lucas." Her voice is ice, but there's a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
"You heard me," I correct myself, standing tall. "She's a part of the deal."
"Tu sei pazzo," Ricardo hisses, saying that I'm crazy, before taking another step in my direction. His face is a storm of anger and disbelief. "You dare?—"
"Let him speak," Isabella interrupts, her gaze never leaving mine.
"Look," I say, taking a deep breath. "I've proven myself, time and time again. I've bled for this family. But I'm done being another cog in your machine. I want out. And I want Serafina by my side."
"Do you even realize what you're asking?" Isabella's voice softens slightly, a touch of maternal concern breaking through her stoic facade. I know what I am asking of her. In their world, daughters are treated as pawns in the game of alliances and power. But hell, she deserves better than that, and I know that a small part of Isabella knows it, too. "What do you have to offer her, or us for that matter?"
"Love," I stand my ground. "I may not have a name that carries weight; I don't have vast wealth like you do, but what I can offer you is something far more valuable - my undying loyalty to you and her and all the love that beats within my heart for Serafina."