Chapter 2

There was a brief silence in the living room.

Vito frowned. "Watch your tone. Who said this was a death sentence? There is a chance you might get hurt, that's all. It's not certain death. Besides, this is an honor for you."

"An honor?" Luciano scoffed. "Then why not let your own son enjoy this honor?"

At the mention of her precious son, Isabella shot to her feet. "Luciano! How can you say that? You know your brother has poor health. And besides..."

She lifted her chin slightly, dropping all pretense.

"You were never really a Costa. We've taken care of you for sixteen years, fed you, given you shelter, given you our name. Now the family needs you. Shouldn't you give something back?"

Luciano stared at her, cold and expressionless.

She was the one who had taken him out of the orphanage, dressed him in clean clothes, taught him how to eat with a knife and fork, and given him everything he needed.

And she was also the one who, seven years ago, had shoved him into that black Fiat without a second thought for whether he lived or died.

"So you raised me for sixteen years," Luciano said, his face blank, "just so you could sell me off twice when the time came?"

"You--"

"Enough." Vito slammed his hand on the armrest of the sofa, his face dark. "Luciano, listen carefully. You don't get a choice in this. I am still the head of the Costa family. As long as you carry the Costa name, you follow my orders."

"And if I don't?"

Vito held up the bag in his hand.

"If you don't go, you'll never get what's inside."

He paused, his eyes cold and sharp.

"But if you go through with the ritual, no matter what happens, this bag is yours."

The crimson in Luciano's eyes slowly settled.

Then he laughed, a quiet, sudden sound.

The chill in his eyes seemed to dim even the flames in the fireplace.

Vito felt a cold pressure press into his chest, suffocating him. Something about Luciano felt wrong. Something that did not belong to the boy he once discarded.

How was this possible?

Luciano pulled his gaze back.

"Have you both forgotten? I already have a fiancée."

The words had barely landed when the front doors of the estate were thrown open.

A woman walked in on the arm of a man.

She had long chestnut hair falling over her shoulders, sharp refined features, and an air of cold arrogance.

It was Victoria Savoy -- the woman he had been engaged to since he was sixteen.

The man on her arm was Alessio.

Alessio looked at him with open contempt.

"Fiancée? Luciano, you're late. Victoria is my woman now."

He pulled Victoria close, his hand resting possessively on her waist, his voice smug.

"As for you? Be a good boy and go to the Helsing family. Go save that dying woman already. At least that way, a useless piece of trash like you will finally serve some purpose."

Victoria leaned into Alessio's shoulder, her smile mocking.

Luciano's pale eyes narrowed. He stepped forward.

Alessio instinctively stepped back.

"What -- what are you doing?"

Luciano's expression was calm, like still water hiding a current underneath.

"Alessio. I hope you remember what you said today. When the time comes, don't regret it."

Victoria felt something uneasy stir in her chest under his gaze, but her mouth stayed sharp.

"Regret? Luciano, look at yourself. Seven years on Mornveil Isle and you can't even afford a decent coat. Do you still think you're a Costa?"

She clung to Alessio, then tapped Luciano's chest.

"You're nothing. A bastard who doesn't even deserve the name he carries. Being chosen by the Helsing family is the greatest thing that will ever happen to you. And me -- Victoria Savoy -- marry someone who crawled out of a fighting pit? Something as dirty as you?"

Alessio pulled her closer. "You hear that? Know your place and get out of here. Go to the Helsing family and stop wasting everyone's time."

Luciano smiled slowly, like a wolf that had already chosen its prey.

"Victoria, you were never something I wanted. That engagement seven years ago was arranged by our families. Today you chose Alessio, and honestly, I'm relieved." He paused. "One more thing."

He glanced at Alessio.

"You love picking up what I leave behind so much -- enjoy it."

Victoria's expression shifted. "You--"

Luciano ignored her. He turned and looked at Vito and Isabella for a long moment.

"The Helsing family. I'll go. I wish the Costa family all the best."

He gave a small, meaningful smile, turned, and walked toward the estate doors.

They all wanted him to walk to his death. Just like last time.

But unlike last time, this was his own choice.

Cecilia was cursed too. Maybe there was something to learn there. And beyond that, he had to take back what belonged to his grandmother.

A dangerous light flashed in his eyes.

Carl was waiting outside.

The door of the black Alfa Romeo was already open.

Luciano got in and dialed a number.

"Marco. The Costa family's cargo at Warehouse 3 in Genova Isle port -- that runs through the Savoy family's shipping route, right?"

A brief pause on the other end. "Yes, sir. That route was set up after Alessio's deal with the Savoys. Mainly olive oil exports."

"Contact the dock union. Hold the shipment for three days. Tell them to resubmit all documentation."

Marco laughed. "Understood, sir. Three days is just enough time for them to reorganize everything in the warehouse. As for delivering to their partners on schedule -- that's not going to happen."

"Good."

Luciano ended the call. "Take me to the address the Helsing family sent."