Page 78 of Lucky
Don Marone, whose dark eyes rival Dante’s.
Victor Moreno, who despite his best efforts, flinches imperceptibly, his eyes clouded with a rancid fear.
Dante pulls the trigger, shooting Victor Moreno in the head at close range. The man slumps forward, his mouth agape as though he’d been about to say something.
The Jekyll steps up to Dante, hands him a wet towel, and the Don wipes his face, his hands, of the blood splatter, even as he still regards the dead man with some distaste.
He turns, his gaze meeting Scar’s, flicking toward Don Marone, and the two men rise, coming to stand on either side of Dante. Father and Son-in-law. Once enemies, now two men who’ve come together with a common purpose.
“Now that we’ve taken out the garbage,” Dante begins, turning to face the smaller families once again, “Don Marone has decided to step down as head of the Marone family. His legacy will now fall to the Gatti family, led by Scar Gatti.”
Scar gives a small nod of acknowledgement, but his face is otherwise impassive, before he and Don Marone take their seats again. My eyes sweep across the room; it’s an unexpected development for the families, and this time, a deathly silence falls upon the gathered members in the absence of anything to add.
Dante starts to rattle off the names of the new families, siting all the changes that will take effect immediately. The Cavallo family, led by Rudy Cavallo, would be the second family. The Donelli family, under Maxim Donelli, would be third in line.
“Lucky Gatti and Jacklyn Vicci will head out the fourth family.”
Eyes turn to Jacklyn. Eyes glide in my direction. My gaze meets hers for a moment, and I see the fire in her eyes. She doesn’t just belong here—she’s destined to rule. People wonderwhat they have to do to be crowned a ruling family. When in the end, all it comes down to is power. Our combined power puts us right up there with the best. I ignore all the looks, because ultimately, Jacklyn... the woman I can’t stop thinking about, will become more than just a partner. She’ll become a queen, and I, her king.
“In place of Moreno, who couldn’t rule to save his life, as demonstrated,” Dante directs a look of disgust at the dead man’s body, “I’m appointing Mason Ironside and Kanyan De Scarzi as heads of the fifth family.”
Murmurs rise. Heads turn. Confusion reigns. It’s a controversial move, appointing an unknown as head of one of the five families. But it’s a good one. What we really need right now is stability. Loyalty. Protection. And who better to offer that than The Enforcer himself.
The body remainedwhere it fell, slumped over the table, a macabre punctuation to Dante’s decree. No one dared move it. The blood pooling beneath Victor Moreno’s head glistened under the dim theatre lights, a silent yet visceral reminder of what betrayal earned. The metallic scent hung in the air, clinging to our clothes, our skin, as we filed out in tense silence.
Outside, the cool night air does little to cleanse the weight of the price paid in the name of change. Jacklyn walks beside me, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her teeth worry at her bottom lip, gnawing at it until it looks raw under the streetlights. She hasn’t stopped since the meeting ended.
The car ride is quieter than usual, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Her restless energy fills the space likestatic, her fingers drumming against the armrest until she finally breaks the tense silence.
“How do you think they took it?” she asks, her voice soft but strained. Her gaze is fixed on the side mirror, as if expecting the shadows to follow us.
I glance at her briefly, noting the way her shoulders hunch, tension coiled in every muscle. She’s worried—about the families, about her brother Jack, about the fallout that comes with power shifts like these.
I slow the car, pulling over to the shoulder of the empty road. The sun illuminates the brush on the side of the highway, casting long, jagged shadows. I shift into park and turn to face her, my voice low but firm.
“Come here.”
She hesitates, her dark eyes searching mine, before unbuckling her seatbelt and climbing into my lap. She settles there, her legs draped over mine, her face inches from mine. I can feel the subtle tremor in her hands as they rest against my chest.
I tuck a strand of her long, tangled hair behind her ear and let my hand glide through the rest of it, the silky texture grounding me as much as it seems to calm her. Her lips are red and swollen from the constant biting, and I cup her face gently, forcing her gaze to meet mine.
“I think it’s time to bring Jack home,” I say, my words deliberate.
Her breath hitches, and I watch the emotions flicker across her face—relief, disbelief, hope—all colliding at once.
“Really?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I nod, my thumb brushing against her cheek. “I think it’s safe now.”
Dante’s final words from the theatre echo in my mind, ringing as clearly as they had when he delivered them. Histone had been low, almost calm, but it carried the weight of a thousand threats.
“Cross me again,” he’d said, his eyes like dark flames as they scanned the room, “and I will not just burn this city to the ground. I will salt the earth.”
The theatre had been silent then, every man present understanding that Dante wasn’t speaking in metaphor. He meant it—every word. And as we’d left, no one had dared to question his authority.
Jacklyn exhaled, her body relaxing slightly against mine. “Do you really think they’ll fall in line after tonight?” she asks, her voice still tinged with uncertainty. I know she’s still worried about Daniel Russo being off grid; so far, we haven’t been able to find him. But we will eventually, and his death wouldn’t be peaceful.
I let my fingers trail down her back, soothing and steadying. “They’d be fools not to.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “Dante made an example of Moreno, but he also made a promise. This city belongs to him, to us, and no one will challenge that without paying a price. And that is too steep a price.”