Chapter 11: Lucio Hernandez

28 YEARS AGO…

"Do not make any noise," Lucio's mother whispered, her voice trembling over her pounding heart.

The three huddled in the cramped bathroom, cold tiles pressing against their bare feet. Lucio's mother held him and his younger brother close, her hands shaking as she gripped them almost too tightly.

Outside, ominous footsteps echoed through the house, accompanied by the muffled sounds of men shouting orders.

Only moments earlier, he and his brother had watched in confusion as their parents frantically packed bags, their movements hurried and desperate. When their father spotted figures approaching the house, he'd turned wild-eyed, shoving them toward the bathroom. "Hide!" he ordered, his voice sharp and final.

"Who are they, mom?" eight-year-old Lucio whispered, his voice quivering.

"Shh! Keep quiet. They must not find us, or they will kill us," she said, her words barely audible and laced with terror.

"But what about dad? Shouldn't we tell him to hide too?"

Her lips trembled as she shook her head. "Your daddy is protecting us. And I will protect you," she promised, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead. Her tears dripped onto his small hands, which clutched her skirt.

Before she could answer his next question, a thunderous knock shattered the silence. Lucio flinched. More voices followed, angry and unyielding, as glass shattered and furniture crashed.

"Please, I beg you… do not hurt my family!" It was his father's voice, raw with desperation.

Lucio's mother tensed, pressing her forehead to his. "Stay quiet," she mouthed, her tearful eyes locked on his. Lucio, shaking, turned to the bathroom door, peering through a small gap.

He could see them—dark silhouettes moving through the wreckage of what was once their peaceful home. His father knelt on the floor, surrounded by armed men dressed in black. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead, his hands bound behind his back.

"The money and the key… where are they?" one man barked.

"I don't have them! Please—"

Lucio watched as his father groaned, his body convulsing under a brutal kick. Another man punched him in the stomach, forcing a splatter of blood from his mouth.

"The Dragon Brotherhood has them!" his father gasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You swore loyalty to the Alphas, and yet you sided with the Dragons," another man snarled.

"I had no choice!"

A gunshot echoed through the house, deafening and horrible. Lucio's father slumped forward, lifeless. The sound made Lucio's younger brother wail uncontrollably. Their mother clamped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The men froze, their eyes snapping toward the bathroom.

"They're hiding," one of them growled.

Moments later, the door burst open, and two men stormed inside.

"No! Please, not my children!" Lucio's mother screamed as the men dragged them out.

But her cries only seemed to amuse them. One man grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at her husband's body. "Think you can hide from us?" he sneered, slapping her hard across the face.

Lucio and his brother were tossed against the wall like discarded toys. His younger sibling crawled to their father's body, clutching his shirt in confusion.

"What are you going to do to my mom?" Lucio shouted, his voice cracking with fear and fury.

The men laughed cruelly. "You watch, kid. This is how you use that little birdie between your legs."

They tied his mother's hands above her head, ignoring her pleas for mercy. She screamed as they ripped her clothes, their vile laughter cutting through the air.

Lucio turned away, pulling his brother close and covering his eyes as the men took turns in raping their mother. He squeezed his own shut, trying to block out the nightmare. His mother's screams pierced the air, her cries for mercy unanswered.

"This is what you get when you mess with the Alphas," one man declared, his voice dripping with cruelty. "You don't get mercy."

"No!"

Lucio jolted awake, gasping for air, drenched in sweat.

The same nightmare had haunted him for 28 years, a constant reminder of the horrors that had destroyed his family. His hands trembled as he wiped his forehead, the images seared into his mind: his father's bloodied body, his mother's screams, his brother's lifeless form on the ground. It was the same every night—a past he couldn't escape.

Lucio stood, his breath uneven, and walked to the dresser. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small, ornate box. Inside lay a golden key, its polished surface glinting in the dim light.

His reflection stared back at him from the mirror above the dresser, the jagged scar across his face as a permanent reminder of what the Alphas had done. His fingers tightened around the box, his knuckles whitening.

He remembered everything—the brutal way his father was beaten to death, his mother's body violated, and his brother's small, innocent life extinguished with a single bullet.

He had survived that night by sheer luck, escaping into the dark while the Alphas reveled in their cruelty. Now, his survival had only one purpose: revenge. He would not stop until the Alpha Brotherhood burned to the ground.

His reflection in the mirror seemed to share his fury, its scarred face twisted with rage. Lucio clenched the golden key tighter, his jaw locking as the fire inside him burned hotter.

"I'll destroy them," he vowed aloud, his voice low and steady. "Every last one of them.