LUCA

I've been staring at these documents—reading them over while weighing my options—for hours. It isn't easy being the Don.

It involves a hell of a lot more paperwork than I would've ever assumed. Perhaps it's because Cain left things in a fucking mess. I'd like to think I've chipped away at it, straightening shit out and strengthening the business overall.

I really can't be certain.

The people who work for me seem to be a lot more optimistic than they were in the weeks leading up to Cain's death. They appreciate having more direction, knowing that we've been maintaining and improving a sense of power that my predecessor had deteriorated.

It'll help that I have plans on making a more intimate connection with Diablo Cardoso. It seems like the logical next step. He's the one who backed me—who gave me the encouragement to end Cain's life.

Besides that, I have nobody else that I've made any sort of connection with during my time working below Cain that I could use to forge a stronger relationship.

In all honesty, I don't trust any of the other dons. Not even Diablo to the deepest extent. With the way he retaliated in memory of Marco, how could I? However, I trust him a hell of a lot more than someone like, say, Marchetti.

In fact, Marchetti was Cain's sworn enemy. He did my bidding—killing Marco—simply because he wanted at Raven and Dove. He wanted to hit Cain where it hurt.

I can only assume that hatred would be passed down to me. Perhaps I'm incorrect in that assumption, but why would I think otherwise at this point? Especially when I've never met the man, and he could have knowledge about the fact that I was present when Dario—his man—was brutally murdered.

If I don't cross Diablo, I truly believe we'll have a good business relationship. He seems to respect me. Treat me as more of an equal. He appreciates what I have to say and isn't afraid to ask me about what I think about things.

As long as he doesn't find out about my involvement with Marco's demise, I reckon we'll be just fine.

I've invited him over today to catch up. I haven't physically seen him since I found his ass hiding in Costa Rica and we'd made an agreement to meet after Cain's death.

Eventually, someone knocks on my office door and Nero pokes his head in, "He's here," he informs me as if I didn't see him on my cameras as his driver entered the driveway.

"Send him in."

After a moment, Diablo enters and I greet him.

As Diablo saunters deeper into my office, I place my paperwork off to the side, pushing out my chair to stand and greet him. He nods approvingly as he admires the space before inquiring, "Did you renovate? After, y'know—" he makes a face, dragging a finger across the front of his neck.

I nod, glancing around at the far more modern decorations. "Yeah, got rid of pretty much everything." But when my eyes scan over the shelving on the long wall, recalling the way I stuffed Raven's knickers into her mouth and fucked her up against the surface while Cain and her fiancé were in the other room, I remember, "Everything but the bookshelf. I had it resurfaced."

"It looks good. You've got way better taste than the last owner."

I mean, I had to renovate the room. Not only was Cain's blood all over the desk, flooring, and relative areas where he rested, but it had so many bad vibes and memories. Every time I stared at a certain spot on the flooring—at the spot where Cain stabbed his knife into Adiv's throat—it'd cause horrible flashbacks to that night.

So, to aid in getting rid of that, I had someone come in and tear it all out. In the place where he took Adiv's life, Raven suggested I place a decorative piece of furniture. She bought a beautiful vase and stuffed it full of similar lotuses to the ones that have since naturally grown where his body lays resting beside the pond.

However, I couldn't stand that either. I'd still glance at the symbol of peace and love to my brother and that's all I'd think of. I'd mentally picture his face—begging and pleading for help—as the life drained from his face.

Raven's intentions were good, but it simply didn't work. The trauma runs too deep.

"How have you been?" He questions, stopping near the chair across from me.

"Busy," I answer because it's the truth. I feel a bit uneasy because taking over Cain's crown has resulted in me being thrown in the deep end. Not only am I trying to learn the ropes of everything, I have to dig us out of a hole so we don't get completely obliterated.

"What's next for the Moreno mafia?"

I run the tips of my fingers over the stubble on my jawline out of habit. "Strip clubs," I admit.

He's going to know whether I tell him or not. All the other families—the other dons—know exactly what each one is doing eventually.

I've been looking at one particular place that I'd like to purchase called Nueve de Espadas. It appears like a rather seedy joint, if I'm being totally honest. If I recall correctly, espadas means swords in Spanish and the owners have taken a rather phallic interpretation to it—fashioning nine oversized dicks on the outside of the building.

That'll be one of the very first things I'll change.

I don't want this to be a business that degrades women and that sign seems to go against my intentions. I want this to be a respectable place where women feel more empowered to go to work.

This business and this world are dark, terrible places, but I'm not heartless. Not like Cain was. I'd prefer these women have stable jobs and not be sold to the sex trade. It's literally the bare minimum and I'm probably metaphorically jerking myself off too much in ego, but it's what I want to do.

In fact, Raven has even shown some interest in it. There's a possibility that I might simply gift it to her and allow her to run the place. She's been looking for some sense of purpose in the mafia world. Something to make her feel needed and empowered and this might be the perfect place.

I imagine the dancers inside would prefer to listen to her anyways.

"Strip clubs, huh?" When I nod in response, he purses his lips in agreement. "Not a bad idea. A lot better than whatever the hell Cain was doing before, well, y'know—" he makes a face, clearly enjoying the fact that Cain is long gone.

"If you don't mind my asking, what exactly was it that caused you to finally flip on Cain?" He moves to seat himself in one of the chairs and I take it upon myself to lean on the edge of my desk so I'm facing him. "From the moment I met you, you always seemed loyal. I'm just curious what he did—what happened—that made you change your mind about him."

My eyes flicker to the spot. The fucking spot that I can still picture Adiv on his knees and I grip the edge of the desk until my knuckles hurt and turn white.

It's hard to swallow my anger. "He murdered my best mate," I explain. "Made me watch."

It's been over half a year since we lost Adiv and I still feel the sting of grief like it occurred yesterday. I remember every single fucking thing about that night. How heavy he felt in my arms. The smell of his blood that I couldn't seem to wash from my skin. How cold he became. The sound of Dove's anguished screams as she was destroyed. The helpless look in his eyes.

To this day, I occasionally have nightmares. Reliving the darkest parts of that night.

They're imprinted in my fucking brain.

"Jesus," Diablo mumbles under his breath. "I'd like to tell you it'll get better, but in all honesty, you'll never forget that type of pain. It'll always be with you."

For the next half hour, we get deeper into business discussions. He seems rather eager to aid me in getting Cain's businesses—now mine—back on their feet. Although, he does admire and compliment me on my abilities to rebound thus far.

He's still the same guy I knew back when Raven was engaged to Marco. He's easy to talk to, friendly, and seems far too normal for this world.

And for a few moments, I forget about all of it. For a bit, it almost feels as if I'm simply another businessman trying to make deals. It's fucking weird, in all honesty.

Ultimately, I agree that working with him is best for a lot of reasons. He has connections, experience, knowledge—you name it. It's also better to keep him close just in case because of the whole Marco thing.

The people that work for me would appreciate this too. Rumours have swirled that Cain was the reason for Marco's death and considering they didn't like Leo or Cain, they'll stand behind it. Especially once their pockets begin to get heavy.

By the time there's a knock at the door, Nero steps inside to discreetly hand me a note, which I'm reading just as there's another noise.

"Rae," Diablo greets Raven as she steps into the office.

"Diablo," she tenses slightly, but in such a way that I'd be the only one to notice. I know her body and its reactions far too well. "How have you been?"

"Taking it day by day," he replies. "But admittedly better with my son's killer six feet under the ground."

"More like six hundred feet," Raven jokes, which causes Diablo to smile.

When Cain died, I had to make sure to inform Diablo of the news, which is exactly what I did. I also had to cover my ass from Marco's death.

Once I gained access to all of Cain's resources, I was able to check further into my anonymous leaking of information. Much to my luck—although, if I can pat myself on the back for a moment, the only reason I did it is because I knew it couldn't be tied back to me—nobody has discovered anything.

That being said, I used Cain's resources to further cover my ass to be safe. In fact, I created solid proof that linked Cain directly to the anonymous leak of Marco's location. I made it appear as if Cain was behind all of it.

Diablo bought it. He thought it was legit. Everything I created and subsequently showed him, proved exactly what he thought. It was an easy sell. All of it simply justified what he already believed to be the truth.

Even better, I know I've covered all of my tracks and nothing can be pinned back to me. That's the good thing about money—you can make just about anything happen if you're willing to pay enough.

"How about you? I'm sorry about the loss of your uncle and cousin."

Firstly, he doesn't know that he wasn't her uncle.

Second, he doesn't know that she was the one who took his life.

Thirdly, it's fucking weird as hell that the man who decapitated her cousin—actually, her half-brother—is inquiring how she's doing since he did just that. Literally sent her family her brother's head in a fucking box, followed by a threatening phone call.

However, I honestly happen to believe that Diablo truly thinks what he did was only done in necessity. I reckon he wouldn't have done shit if he hadn't felt slighted so extremely.

In some sick fucking way, I think Diablo is genuinely apologetic for the harm he caused to the others who knew Leo. Not for the harm he caused to Cain and his empire or to even Leo, but to those like Dove, Raven, and Mariposa—the innocent bystanders of his crime of passion.

Raven hesitates and I see Diablo catches that moment. "Thank you," she leaves it at that.

Diablo takes a controlled breath, "You didn't really care for them, did you?" I think the question is rhetorical because he quickly adds, "I don't blame you."

I wonder if he sees the strength in Raven that I see. That she isn't as innocent as the other women that revolved around Cain.

The women in Cain's life were forced to be timid. To not be reactive in emotion. To behave in a certain way in public, that was frankly, misogynistic. He purposefully suppressed them. Treated them as if they were disposable, controllable trophies.

He was a moron to ignore the lessons and knowledge they could teach him. It's exactly why I include Raven's voice in majority of my decisions. If not all. I appreciate the things she has to say and I want to include more women within my organization. She has valid opinions and viewpoints on everything important in my life.

I ponder what he'd think if he found out that Raven took Cain's own belt and wrapped it around his throat until he stopped breathing. That, it was entirely her plan and I only went along with it.

That the reason she isn't upset or sad about Cain's death is because it was her hands that ended it.

I've always said—never trust a survivor until you find out what she's done to stay alive.

My angel isn't as innocent as she may appear.

Raven and I relate strongly to one another's traumas. Her life has been substantially more privileged than mine. However, it's also been starkly more isolating, painful, and difficult than mine.

In the months since Cain's death, we've discussed some of it. She doesn't enjoy going into detail about it, but the worst one that's remained with me involves one of the men that Dove attempted to date.

Dove always thought that Cain beat the fuck out of him and it forced the guy to move. Raven confessed to me that she prefers to pretend that's how it was.

However, she admitted that—in her usual curious state—she wandered near the basement shortly after him and Dove were caught dating. She said the door was partially open and the only reason she was able to sneak so close is because Cain's men were busy aiding Cain in holding the man down.

Raven says she watched as Cain ripped the man's pants down, took about the smallest saw blade—the type with sharp, serrated edges—possible, and quite literally torturously slowly cut the guy's dick off. Cain didn't stop there, though. In fact, he then force fed the man his own dick.

But the guy kept vomiting and refused. So Cain ripped out each of his teeth until he couldn't fight back any longer, using a spreader clamp to keep his teethless gums spread wide as he jammed chunks of the man's genitals down his throat.

If that's only some of what Raven's witnessed and heard, I understand why she's desensitized to some of the violence she witnesses.

Diablo glances at his phone and lifts his head, "I should be off then."

I close the distance between us to shake his hand, "We'll talk soon."

"Of course." As he begins walking away, he buttons up his suit jacket. "It was nice seeing you again, Rae."  Before Diablo leaves, he leaves me with, "Remember Luca, history is written by the victors."

I watch him on the cameras as he exits the property.

"Raven," I call out for her attention before she leaves the room. When she spins and takes a few steps back in my direction, I inform her, "Dove is going into labour."

"Wait, really?"

I nod, "You said you want to be there for her when she gives birth, yeah?"

"Yes, she has no one else. I don't want her to be alone."

I close the distance between us, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "Then let's go. We need to get on the jet now."

* * *

Once the jet takes off and we're in the air, Raven orders us some champagne, moving to seat herself in my lap. She's purposefully making a show, mad that the flight attendant—whom I will now have to fire—lingered a little too long on me.

When she comes back with the drink, she's visibly uncomfortable at the sight of Raven in my lap. In fact, she appears a bit angry and I use the opportunity to grip Raven's jaw, descending my mouth upon hers.

By the time we've pulled apart, the attendant has retreated back to the small room near the front until we possibly need to call her back. We won't, though. The flight is short and I can already tell that Raven wants to make something well known.

With her ass pressed up against my clothed cock, she nuzzles her backside into me, feigning as if she's simply sipping her champagne. She isn't as sneaky as she seems to believe.

Reaching up, I brush some hair off her back, hovering my mouth at the curve of where her neck meets her shoulder, growling, "If you keep rubbing up against my dick like that, I'm gonna' take you into the bedroom, pull this dress up over your ass and make you scream my name so loudly the attendant will think you've discovered a new God."

In response, she does it again, applying a little more pressure as she throws her head back on my shoulder.

I collar the front of her throat with my hand, the rings on my fingers surely creating a cold contrast against her skin, my voice low against the shell of her ear as I mutter, "As always, angel baby, I enjoy your defiance." She hums and I'm positive she smirks as I add, "You have no idea what it does to me."

This is exactly what she wanted. She's the one who grabs my hand to pull me up and out of my seat to yank me backwards towards the bedroom.

* * *

We get to the hospital in time to see Dove give birth. Respectfully, I wait just outside the room. Raven, however, stays inside and holds her sister's hand throughout it all.

She makes it through the birth perfectly fine. Her and her son are healthy upon birth. Raven makes sure to step out frequently to give me updates.

Although, Dove cried shortly after he was born into the world and gave us all a ear-shattering scream. I'm not sure if it's the hormones—I've heard it can be a lot and it makes sense—or if it's something else. Personally, I reckon it's because Adiv isn't here to witness all of this.

But I don't speak about it. The last thing I want to do is upset her on a day like today. Even without him here, this is supposed to be a happy day. The best of her life.

Raven calls me into the room right after the baby has been returned to Dove's bedside by a nurse. By the time I've stood and stretched my legs—considering I waited in a chair for close to two hours—I'm a few steps behind Raven as she heads back into the room.

"Hi," Raven whispers the word extra quiet as Dove carefully passes off the newborn into Raven's arms. She makes sure to be delicate, cradling the baby's head as she begins to bounce slightly, to provide a rocking motion that will keep AJ asleep. "Hi, lil' guy. I'm Auntie Rae."

She smiles down at the baby, her eyes lighting up as she stares at him.

This feeling explodes within the confines of my chest, causes it to feel tight with overwhelming emotion.

Raven appears so natural in the way she cradles AJ. Seems elated at the welcoming of her nephew.

I want to be a father one day. I've always wanted to be one. I love Raven and I think she'd make an incredible mother.

However, I would never bring a child into this world. I refuse to bring a child into this particular world of death, destruction, and despair. That dream simply isn't fathomable while I'm the Don of a mafia. I will not do it.

By becoming the one thing I originally sought out to destroy, have I destroyed myself? Is it possible to get out of this whole mess? I've always thought the only way to get myself out was to kill the most powerful man.

But now I am that man.

What the fuck does that mean for my exit strategy? That someone now has to kill me in order for me to be free?

Somewhere deep down I know how all this ends. Of course I fucking do. But the memories of how it all began are beginning to get fuzzy.

The people who work for me seem to believe I have metal for bones. They see me as some indestructible figure. However, even metal can bend and break.

I do what I can to ignore the thoughts, turning to Dove, "How are you feeling?" I can see the puffiness in her eyes from crying, but it's still respectful to ask.

"Tired," is what she answers. "But I'm happy he's okay."

I wonder if she's partially referring to the fact that Cain poisoned her. When Raven had suspicions, she snuck Dove out to meet with a doctor and have her tested. He swore that baby AJ was fine, however, nothing is ever guaranteed.

So to see that he's fine and healthy, it has to be a massive relief to her.

"Luca, would you like to hold him?" Dove asks, weakly smiling because she's obviously quite tired.

I hesitate. Fuck, do I ever hesitate.

I'm petrified that whatever evil that resides inside of me will somehow transfer over to the innocent child's life.

Should the hands that have taken multiple lives hold a newborn baby? The blood that stains them should be kept a million miles away from him.

The whole reason Dove moved was to get away from people like me. To ensure the child grows up in a world of normalcy, filled with love.

The stories he'll hear in childhood—of monsters, of evil, of angels and devils—could easily be experiences and anecdotes from my past. He'll be read those types of books before he's lulled to sleep. Taught moral lessons through the tales of Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf, of Snow White and the evil witch with the poisoned apple—

Jesus Christ, Raven literally poisoned Cain with his own coffee.

I wish Adiv were here. He'd know what to say.

Fuck that, he'd be here to hold his own son. Like he should be.

His absence continues to make parts of my life feel cavernous. It feels like the echo of a bullet wound in my chest as Raven steps closer and I see that AJ—Adiv Junior—has his father's eyes.

She must sense something in me that Dove isn't able to notice because she doesn't understand me as intimately as Raven does. "It's okay, Z." Her voice is soft, soothing, as she steps close enough that she's offering me the newborn.

He opens his eyes only momentarily to look at me and my throat tightens. He makes the faintest sound, wrapped up tightly in a blanket.

I take him as delicately as I'm able to, ensuring that he's safe in my arms. I expect him to fuss, cry, do something—considering he's in the devil's hold—but he doesn't. He closes his eyes and falls back to sleep within seconds.

The tightness in my chest returns. So many thoughts swirl in my head, but the most important one is that I love this tiny baby. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure him and his mom are safe.

I pray fatherhood happens for me one day. I pray that Raven and I can escape this life and raise our own children in a safe and loving environment.

But my thoughts from earlier come back, spreading their shadowy fingers outwards from the darkest crevices of my mind.

Of the way Marco, Leo, Cain, and Adiv escaped this life.

Carefully I step to Dove, passing AJ back to her. As she holds him to her chest, she bounces and rocks him slightly, asking, "Did you meet Uncle Luca?"

"Uncle?" I can't hide the surprise in my voice.

"Uncle," she confirms. "It's what he would've wanted."

She doesn't have to say his name. I know exactly who she means.