Page 31 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Prince
Immediately, I gain consciousness. I turn to Bianca, my face a mask of calm and a fake smile. “Shall we?”
My eyes flick to one of the men standing at attention nearby. “Vito, grab my bags. Be careful with the red one. If you so much as scratch it, you’re dead.”
He gulps loudly before nodding hastily. “Yes, Boss.”
I offer Bianca my right arm, and she takes it. Her eyes are laced with concern. She wouldn’t be worried about me if she had any idea what I had planned for the Mancinis. They are the ones she should be worried about.
We descend the jet’s stairs in silence. The cool Miami breeze sweeps across our faces.
When we reach the tarmac, I nod to the waiting convoy. “Let’s move. I’ve got a schedule to keep.”
The men scramble to load my bags into the G-Wagon; they are very coordinated with smooth movements. I open the door for Bianca, and she slides in, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Let’s go,” I command, as I slide into the car, shutting the door.
This city is about to be mine.
Miami is a big city with big possibilities; thankfully, my father, Salvatore De Santis, has built quite an empire. An empire that will now be ruled by me.
Bianca is quiet for most of the ride, with her head turned to the glass. She is my responsibility now, and my family’s legacy.
I turn away, gazing out the window at the city lights blurring by. My father was too scared to make the first move. He had the chance to get to the Mancinis first, but he didn’t. He wasn’t brave enough to attack his enemy first, or maybe he was too considerate of our past with them, which made him weak and vulnerable. And in our world, weakness gets you killed.
I’m not letting that mistake repeat itself.
Never again.
As we approach the main gate, I can see the grandeur of the De Santi empire unfolding before me. The gate is sleek as it slides open with a soft hum, revealing a winding driveway that snakes through a meticulously manicured garden.
The garden is a masterpiece of landscape design. Lush greenery and vibrant flowers that seem to glow in the fading light of day. The air is thick with the scent of blooming roses and the soft chirping of birds.
As we continue up the driveway, the mansion comes into view.
It’s a sprawling, white behemoth of a building with columns and arches that evoke the grandeur of a presidential palace. The windows are tinted, reflecting the sun’s rays like a mirror, and the front door is a massive, ornate affair that looks like it was plucked straight from the pages of a fairy tale.
The car pulls up to the entrance, and Vito leaps out to open my door.
I step out, my eyes scanning the perimeter of the property, taking in the subtle security details that only a trained eye would notice.
Bianca follows, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the opulence of our surroundings.
“Welcome home, Luca,” Vito says, his voice low and respectful. “The family is waiting for you in the study.”
With a gentle nod, my face is a mask of calm. “Good. Let’s get down to business.”
Bianca stares at me, confused. “Family?” Her eyes are still swollen from last night.
The Mancinis have caused us so much pain. They’ll feel worse when I am done with them.
“Bianca, come on,” I say, striding ahead without bothering to answer her question.
“What are we doing here, Luca?”
“You’ll see soon.”
I push open the study door, revealing a room filled with men of all shapes and sizes. They’re all dressed in suits, and their faces are a mix of rugged and refined. Some have tattoos, others have scars, but all of them exude an air of quiet confidence.
“Ah, Luca! Welcome home, son!” one of the older men booms, his voice like a warm hug.
