The ballroom smells like smoke and panic.
Glass litters the floor. Blood smears the gold trim. Security ushers guests out like broken chess pieces, heads low, lips tight.
My men are already restoring order—fast, efficient, silent.
And I stand in the eye of it all—still. Watchful. Ready.
Because tonight wasn’t just a wedding.
It was a test.
And someone failed.
Then I hear him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Luca says behind me, voice taut. Controlled. But cracking.
I don’t turn. Not yet.
“You humiliated Sarah,” he adds, footsteps scraping closer.
“In front of everyone. On our wedding day.”
Now I turn.
His tie’s crooked. His eyes wild. The posture of a boy trying to wear a man’s crown.
“Sarah humiliated herself,” I say, voice low but lethal. “I reminded the room who the fuck we are.”
His jaw tightens. “She panicked. Eva showing up—”
“She insulted a guest,” I cut in, my tone like a blade. “She publicly degraded a woman who never said a word to her. On our turf. In front of the Five Families. That wasn’t panic, Luca. That was weakness. And weakness is an invitation to bleed.”
He flinches.
“She’s my wife.”
“Then she should’ve known better than to act like a jealous debutante in a room full of predators.”
I step forward, the weight of my fury finally showing in my voice.
“You’re worried about Sarah’s reputation? Two of my men are dead.”
“Dead, Luca.”
“Because while you were too busy playing husband, I was cleaning up the fucking fallout.”
His mouth opens. Closes.
Nothing.
“She targeted Eva because she thought she could. Because you let her.”
“You didn’t defend your guest. You didn’t defend your name. So I had to.”
Luca swallows hard, his eyes down.
Good. Let him sit with it.
I’m no longer looking at him.
My gaze lifts—to the shattered glass, the blood on marble, the echo of gunfire still clinging to the air like smoke.
They dared.
They dared to spill blood on my turf. On my ground.
Not just a hit. A message. A test.
And now?
They’ve signed their own fucking death warrants.
I turn slowly, my jaw tight, my hands clenched.
I deal in blood.
I will find out who gave the order, who pulled the trigger, and who stood by thinking I’d let it slide.
And when I do?
There will be no negotiations.
No mercy.
Because this wasn’t just an attack.
It was a declaration of fucking war.
“Talk. Your miserable bastard.”
I stand in the middle of the dimly lit room, inhaling the thick stench of sweat, blood, and fear.
The air is heavy, pressing in like a second skin.
My shirt sleeves are rolled up to my elbows, old scars and fresh bruises on my knuckles.
The bastard tied to the chair lifts his head. His face is a mess of sweat and blood, a cracked brow bone leaking red down his cheek. He’s younger than I expected—early thirties maybe—dumb, greedy, and shaking like a rabbit that’s wandered too close to a wolf den.
Behind me, Luca clears his throat.
He insisted on coming, said he wants to learn, to prove he’s got what it takes to stand at my side. But I know better. He’s been nervously pacing since we dragged this rat in here.
“You got a name, asshole?”
The man swallows thickly. “D–Darren,” he wheezes. “Darren Harper.”
I glance at Luca, then back at the sniveling mess in front of me. “Darren,” I repeat. “You and your crew decided to crash my son’s wedding. Pulled guns on my guests, thinking you could score easy cash. That sound about right?”
Darren nods weakly. “We didn’t know—”
I cut him off. “You didn’t know what? That you were robbing a Bellacino wedding?” I take a slow step forward. “That you were pointing guns at my family?”
He flinches. Blood dripping off his chin splatters onto the concrete. “We… we got tipped off. Some big shot, lots of money. We had no idea it was—”
“Shut up.” My voice echoes off the walls. He clamps his mouth shut, shoulders trembling.
I let the silence stretch, make him wait for the potential consequences coming. I turn to Luca. He’s trying to appear indifferent, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the hesitation in his stance.
“You wanted to learn, to be here,” I say to Luca, nodding toward Darren. “Go ahead.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Luca asks, a slight tremor in his voice.
“You tell me,” I say. “This man humiliated our family. Ruined your wedding. Terrorized your new wife. Clearly, he needs some incentive, so make him talk.”
Luca’s jaw tightens as he flicks his gaze between Darren and me. “He’s already hurt,” he says, his voice quiet.
I feel a flash of irritation. This is the difference between my son and myself. Luca wants respect, but he’s never been willing to take it, to demand it the way I do. The same way my father taught me.
I snap my fingers, and Vito, one of my heavies, hands Luca a pair of brass knuckles. He stares at them like they are about to bite him.
“Go on,” I say, challenging him. “Show this shit stain what happens when you cross the Bellacino family.”
For a second, I think he’ll do it. His fingers twitch, his expression darkens. But then he exhales and hands the knuckles back to Vito.
“I’m good.”
Disappointment flares hot in my chest. I should’ve known. Luca wasn’t made for this world. He wants the power, but he won’t spill blood for it. He’s not willing to do whatever it takes to earn and keep it.
I push him aside and turn back to Darren. “Guess I’ll be handling this myself.”
Darren’s breath stutters. “Please,” he croaks. “I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”
He hesitates before speaking. A mistake. I slam my fist into his gut, forcing the air from his lungs. He doubles over, wheezing, and I grab his hair, jerking his head up. “I said talk.”
“We got a call!” he sputters. “He said the place would be full of high rollers, big money. That the cops wouldn’t come near it because the bride’s mother had connections. He told us—”
“Who?” I growl.
He mumbles something about a service tunnel under the catering wing—an access point someone on the inside left unsecured. Security cameras were looped. The timing too perfect to be random.
His eyes dart to Luca then back to me. His voice is barely above a whisper as he says, “Lombardi. Gianni Lombardi.”
Rage surges through me, cold and sharp. I release Darren, letting him slump back into the chair. “You’re telling me the Lombardi family set this up?”
He nods, his breathing shallow. “Said it was an easy score. That we could keep whatever we took. That’s it, that’s all I know!”
Gianni Lombardi. That fucking cockroach. His father and I made an agreement years ago—one that clearly meant nothing to him.
I glance at Luca. He watches in silence, his posture stiff, probably wondering what I’ll do next.
I lean in, my voice quiet but lethal. “You and your men made a mistake. A big one.”
Darren nods frantically. “I know—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t know. But you’re about to find out.” I straighten, rolling my shoulders as I turn to Vito. “Get him out of here. I want him breathing in case I need more from him.”
Darren’s face crumbles. “No, please—”
Two of my men drag him out, his pleas trailing behind him. The room falls into thick silence as Luca and I are the only two that remain.
Luca exhales sharply. “Gianni Lombardi was behind this?”
I nod. “Apparently so, as our friend just confirmed. I believe him. The Lombardi’s have been stepping over the line for years, testing us. This was a direct challenge.”
Luca swallows hard. “You think it was personal? Not just about money?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Of course it was personal. Otherwise, why your wedding in front of our guests?” I shake my head. “He was sending a message. This was a power play.”
Luca hesitates. “And what’s our message back?”
I tilt my head. “What do you think? I’m going to show Gianni what happens when you challenge the Bellacinos.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows again. “And you’re sure you want me around for that?”
I stare at him for a long moment. My son, my blood. Yet right now, I see a boy, not a man.
I finally speak, my voice cool. “That depends. Are you going to step up, or are you going to keep your hands clean?”
Luca shifts his weight, uncertainty flickering across his face. I already know the answer.
I shake my head in frustration. “You have to decide, Luca. Because this world? It doesn’t wait for you to grow a spine.”
He doesn’t respond right away; instead he glances at the doorway where Darren was dragged out. “I thought I could handle it.”
“Now you’re not so sure?”
Luca hesitates. “No, I… I can handle it. It’s just…” His fingers rub at his temple. “I didn’t expect so much blood and violence, I guess.”
Blood and violence is a big part of it. You don’t hold power without getting your hands dirty. That’s something my father made damn sure I understood when I was Luca’s age.
I move toward the rust-stained sink in the corner, twisting the tap. Water splashes against the basin as I rinse the blood from my knuckles, watching the red-tinted liquid swirl down the drain.
“Look,” I say, shutting off the water and drying my hands on a rag. “If you can’t stomach this, now’s the time to walk away. Go back to your cushy apartment, your designer suits, your high-society dinners, and let the rest of us handle the dirty work, the dark side of things.”
Luca bristles. “That’s not fair. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Being here isn’t enough.” I toss the rag aside. “You can’t just watch from the sidelines. Sooner or later, you’ll need to get in the game and do it yourself. You’ll need to make someone bleed. Can you do that?”
He doesn’t answer. Just stares at the floor, his jaw tight, tension rippling through him. He wants the power, the name, the respect—without having to deal with the brutality of it. He’s not built for this life, not the way I was.
I shake my head, my irritation level rising. The Bellacino name is more than just a title. It’s a legacy. One that requires strength and bravery, as well as a willingness to defend it.
Eva’s face flashes in my mind. That fierce, wickedly intelligent woman with curves that still make my hands itch to claim her—again. The last thing I need is a distraction, but that doesn’t stop my gut from tightening at the memory of her beneath me, her moans ringing in my ears, the way she felt wrapped around my cock.
I push the thought aside. Now is not the time.
Straightening, I roll my shoulders back. “Let’s go. We have business to handle. If Lombardi wants a war, he’ll get one.”
Luca inhales sharply. “All right.”
We step out of the room and into the warehouse—a large, dimly lit space near the waterfront. The air is thick with salt, sweat, and the faint metallic bite of blood. My men move with controlled efficiency, securing loose ends.
Darren is being locked away in a side room, the sound of a heavy door slamming echoing through the vast space. Good. He’ll keep for now.
Riccardo, one of my most trusted men, approaches. “Boss, we rounded up the rest of the scumbags. They’re all telling the same story, that Lombardi tipped them off. Told them the wedding would be an easy job. They had no idea it was a Bellacino event.”
My jaw ticks and I look at Luca. “You see? They try to cut themselves a slice of our pie, we either put them in the ground or remind them who’s in charge. There’s no in-between.”
Luca exhales. “I get it.”
No, he doesn’t. But he’s staying, which means there’s still hope.
Riccardo shifts. “What do you want us to do next?”
I adjust my cuffs, smoothing out my tie. “Send a message to Lombardi—loud and clear—that we know he’s responsible. If he’s smart, he’ll realize he’s out of his depth and try to make amends.” I pause. “If he doesn’t, we go to him. And we bring everyone.”
Riccardo’s lips twitch. “Understood.” He lowers his head in respect before striding off, leaving me alone with Luca.
“You should go home and get some rest,” I tell him. “We’ll meet tomorrow. By then, I’ll have a plan.”
He hesitates. “Are you really keeping Darren alive? You’re not just going to… you know.”
I smirk. “That depends. If Lombardi comes crawling, Darren might be useful. If not, then he’s just another lesson.”
Luca swallows. “Right.”
“Go home.” I jerk my chin toward the exit. “We’re done for tonight.”
He hesitates but nods, walking away with stiff shoulders. I watch him go, knowing he’s wrestling with what he’s seen.
The problem is, I don’t have time for wrestling. Enemies are closing in.
I lean against a crate, exhaling slowly. My mind drifts back to Eva, wondering where she is, hoping she’s safe. The memory of her skin against mine, the way she looked at me with raw desire in her eyes, sends a rush of heat through me.
She’s too good for this world. Too good for me.
And yet, I want her badly.
I push off the crate, forcing the thought away. I have work to do. My men are waiting.
“Boss?” Riccardo approaches again. “We setting the next steps in motion?”
I nod in the affirmative. “First, check on our men from the wedding. Make sure families are compensated. Then, track Lombardi. Find out if he’s gone underground yet.”
“On it.”
The urge to check on Eva is strong. To hear her voice, to know she’s okay. But if I reach out, I risk pulling her into this mess. And if Lombardi finds out I care about her, she’ll become a target.
I clench my jaw. I can’t check on her. Not yet. Not until I have this situation under control.
Straightening, I stride toward the exit. Outside, the air is crisp, the scent of the Hudson thick in the breeze. A few black SUVs idle nearby, my men posted around them like shadows. They nod as I pass.
I nod back, scanning the city skyline. The glitz and glamour hide the blood that runs beneath its streets. And right now, a lot of that blood is on my hands.
I climb into the waiting SUV, the leather seats cool against my back. The engine rumbles to life, and we pull away from the dock, merging onto the quiet road.
Tomorrow, I’ll set things in motion. Tomorrow, I’ll remind the Lombardis why the Bellacino name is feared.
