Chapter 16 – The Blood Crown

The smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air as Luciano stepped out of the slaughterhouse, his arm wrapped protectively around Ariana. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, but none dared come close. Not the cops. Not the press. The streets had learned long ago—when the mafia kings went to war, everyone else disappeared.

Marco and Sergio dragged Dante's battered body toward the SUV, tossing him into the trunk like garbage. Valentina followed, limping slightly but refusing help, her face streaked with dried blood and defiance.

Ariana clung to Luciano's side, fingers fisting in his jacket like she was afraid he might vanish if she let go.

Luciano pressed a kiss to her temple, whispering, "It's over."

But even as he said it, a lie curled at the edges of his tongue.

Because it wasn't over. Not yet.

The drive back to the penthouse was silent. Tense. Every person in that car knew what came next.

Luciano's war was no longer with just rival families or hidden traitors. No. This was a purge. A total reshaping of power. The city wasn't just watching—it was trembling.

Back at the penthouse, Dante was dragged into the underground chamber beneath the building—an interrogation room that hadn't seen use in years. A room designed for exactly this.

Luciano stood before him, eyes cold, jaw set like granite. Ariana hovered near the doorway, watching but silent. Part of her wanted to look away... but part of her couldn't.

Dante coughed, blood dripping from his mouth. "You... you can't kill me... you need me..."

Luciano tilted his head, studying him like one might study a dying animal. "Need you? For what? You sold me out. You sold this family out."

Dante gasped, "I... I know things... Moretti wasn't the top... there's someone else... higher... bigger..."

Sergio snorted. "Here we go again."

Luciano raised a hand, silencing him. His eyes never left Dante. "Then start talking."

Dante trembled. "There's a council... an international syndicate... bigger than anything you've dealt with. Moretti was their puppet. Giovanni too. They control half the financial black markets in Europe... the politicians... the judges... the banks."

Luciano's expression didn't shift. "Names."

"I... I don't know all of them..." Dante stammered. "But one... the one who controls this region... goes by 'The Raven.' No real name. No face. Just... rumors."

Valentina stepped closer, voice like a blade. "You're feeding us ghost stories."

Dante shook his head violently. "No! No, it's real! The Raven... he's the one who gave the order. He wanted you dead before you could consolidate power."

Luciano crossed his arms, thinking. Cold. Calculating.

Sergio muttered, "Boss... even if this is true... we're looking at a fight that's global. Not street-level. This is next level."

Luciano nodded. "I know."

His eyes flicked to Dante. "And you... you're going to help me dismantle it."

Dante blinked. "What?"

Luciano stepped forward, crouching to his level, voice like velvet-coated steel. "You're going to be my voice in the shadows. My ghost. You're going to feed them lies, set traps, burn their alliances from the inside."

"And... and if I say no?" Dante's voice cracked.

Luciano smiled. "Then I'll send your head back to them in a box."

Dante gulped, then nodded. "Alright... alright... I'll do it..."

"Smart choice."

Luciano stood, turning to Marco. "Get him patched. Barely. Keep him alive."

Marco nodded. "You got it."

Ariana stepped forward as everyone filed out, her hand sliding into Luciano's. Her voice was soft. "This is never going to end, is it?"

He turned to her, fingers brushing her cheek. "It ends when I say it ends."

Her eyes searched his. "And until then?"

His voice dropped. "Until then... I burn everything that stands in my way."

She trembled—not from fear—but from the realization that she was falling deeper into a world she couldn't escape.

And into the arms of the most dangerous man she'd ever love.

Luciano cupped her chin, lowering his lips to hers, claiming her with a kiss that told her everything words never could.

She was his.

And he was hers.

But far in the distance, beyond the city's glow, a figure watched through a satellite feed, fingers steepled, face hidden in shadow.

"The boy's becoming reckless..." the figure murmured.

A woman's voice answered from the shadows. "Reckless men... change the world."

A slow, cold smile. "Let's see if he's ready to play with kings."