Page 51 of Lucky

The words hang in the air like a thunderstorm waiting to break. I swallow hard, my throat dry as dust. This isn’t just about power. This isn’t just about protecting the families. This has now become about everything.

“I’m not just offering Lucky power, Scar.” Dante’s voice lowers, almost a growl, but it’s calculated, dripping with the weight of what’s coming next. “I’m offering him a legacy.”

I drink deeply from the glass in front of me, my fingers trembling slightly as I set it down with a hollow clink. A legacy. The words resound in my head, louder than the thumping of my heart.

I feel it then—the crushing weight of the decision ahead. The stakes have never been higher. Not just for me, not just for Lucky, but for every family involved. This isn’t a game. This is the kind of deal that can tear us apart or solidify us forever.

But Dante’s not done. He keeps pushing, his eyes gleaming with that dangerous certainty that always precedes something huge.

“The others,” he continues, his voice now all business. “The Cavallos, the Donellis…Victor Moreno…they’ll all retain their stations. I’m merely appointing leadership.”

Victor Moreno. The name hangs in the air, a threat wrapped in velvet. “Victor Moreno won’t take kindly to this arrangement,”I murmur, more to myself than to him. “He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his seat at the table.”

Dante’s lips curl into a thin, knowing smile. “He’ll still have it,” he says, as if he’s already three steps ahead.

“He wants leadership…you know it’s what he’s been working toward for years.”

“Leadership rests with those I know can make the most change, with those who can be trusted.”

I nod slowly, my mind still racing. My thoughts are a thousand miles ahead, scrambling to catch up with this new reality. I look at Caleph, and then Dante, my gaze steady, unreadable.

“You understand now why Lucky should marry Jacklyn Vicci?” Dante asks. “The Vicci name alone will not hold weight. But backed by a Gatti, it’ll give us a foothold in this shifting world. It will give us the stability we need. They’ll think twice before they cross the line again.”

I feel the weight of it all settle in my chest. Jacklyn Vicci is not just a name. She’s not just a moving piece in this game. She’s the key to everything. Power. Stability. Family. The future.

“You’re asking us to stake the future of our families on her,” I say, my voice steady, my mind racing.

Dante’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with that dangerous certainty I’ve come to know all too well. “I’m asking you to stake your future on us, Scar. On the right choices. On power. And yes, on Jacklyn.”

We Gatti brothershaven’t had the most conventional upbringing, and Lord knows we have our fair share of emotional baggage; burdens and demons fighting for control over ourconscience. But that’s the thing about us, about me—I’ve learned how to carry my burdens, how to shoulder the weight of everything that’s come before. We all have, in our own way.

But Lucky? He’s always been different. He’s the one I’m worried about now. He’s the one who’s cracking. The fact that he went off on his own on a mission to find Jacklyn Vicci tells me he’s spiralling. It wasn’t just a mission for him. It was something far more personal, and I could feel the storm inside him brewing from miles away. I knew then that the weight of everything was pushing him over the edge. He wasn’t just hunting for Jacklyn anymore—he was hunting for something within himself. A way to fill the hole, to make sense of all the shit that’s gone down in his life.

And that’s my concern. Lucky’s my concern. Right now, he’s the only thing I can think about.

I’ve known him longer than anyone. Seen every side of him—good, bad, and the ugly that he hides beneath layers of carefully constructed walls. Lucky is the emotional one among us. Where the rest of us have learned to bury our feelings, to compartmentalize them until they don’t exist anymore, he wears his like an open wound. When he feels, he feelstoomuch. It’s in his eyes, in the way his jaw tightens when something’s not right, the way he tries so damn hard to keep the world at arm’s length while being pulled deeper into it with each passing second.

It’s why he built that armor of his, always hidden behind the facade of being the tough guy. Like a knight in a crumbling suit of steel. But it’s only a matter of time before that armor rusts, and when it does, everything inside him will come rushing out.

I’ve been watching him for years now. Maybe not closely enough, but I’ve watched. I saw it the day our mother left after Christiano’s death.

Losing him... I don’t even know how to describe it. It was a punch to the gut for all of us, but especially for Brando.Christiano and Brando were twins—two halves of the same whole. Brando’s grief was so damn consuming, I thought he’d fall apart for good. But it wasn’t just Brando who felt it. Lucky felt that loss too. Harder, I think, than anyone ever realized.

Christiano was a pillar for Lucky. The kind of rock you could lean on when the world was crumbling. And when we lost him, it left Lucky dangling, unmoored, caught between trying to hold us together and the crippling fear of losing even more.

Our mother leaving us was the final nail in the coffin for us. I can remember so clearly the moment she walked out; the single suitcase by her side, the staunch set of her shoulders as she marched toward the door, cast out by my father. She didn’t even say goodbye. Not a word. Not a single embrace. She left behind only the icy cold heart that she had carried around like a talisman. I remember the hollow look on Lucky’s face when she didn’t come back. Rafi, just a boy at seven, didn’t understand as much as the rest of us. He was too young, too resilient to feel the same weight that Lucky did.

But Lucky—he never quite bounced back. Not like the rest of us.

He took it all on himself, shouldering things a kid his age shouldn’t have had to bear. I’m sure he felt like he had to carry all of us after she left. I saw it in the way he tried to be our protector, always a step ahead, always looking out for the rest of us like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And maybe he did. But what most people didn’t see was how much of it broke him. The guilt, the responsibility—he buried it, but I could see it. I always could.

We all felt that fear, but for Lucky, it was different. He didn’t just lose a brother. He lost his sense of security, his sense offamily. I think that’s when he started to believe that if you got too close to someone, if you allowed yourself to depend on them, you’d only end up empty-handed in the end. So, he startedpushing people away, building those walls higher, thicker, until no one could get in. Not even me.

I wish I could’ve done more. Said something. But Lucky’s always been stubborn, always been the one to hide behind that armor. And now, as I watch him spiral, as I see him chasing after something he can’t even name, I wonder if it’s finally time for me to break through.

The Gatti brothers don’t have the luxury of showing weakness. Not in front of our enemies, not even in front of each other. But that doesn’t mean we don’t feel it. We’re just better at pretending we don’t.

I grab my phone, the glow of the screen lighting up my face in the dark room. The message from Rafi catches my eye—he’s checked in, asking about Lucky’s whereabouts. I type a quick response, but my mind is elsewhere, circling back to my brother’s last move.