Lucas's POV

A knock rasped softly on the door of my study before it gently creaked open.

Jane, my head maid and custodian, stepped in, hands behind her back, her head bowed in submission.

“You sent for me, Boss,” she said softly.

"Yes Jane,” I replied, relaxing into my office swivel chair. "Have a seat.”

Jane had been among the first people I hired when I became the Don. She had quickly adapted into the Mafia life without protest.

When I first got this huge mansion, Jane was the first person that moved in here and made sure the house was in order.

She is in charge of everything here, the housekeepers and chefs, and since she knew the Mafia way of life, she did everything as she is told and does not question things other people would.

She settled down into the seat in front of the huge mahogany table, her hands folded on her lap, her eyes down.

“I want you to change the decor in my wing," I said, my voice controlled.

“Change it from dark grey theme to a soft lilac theme, especially the master's bedroom."

Jane nodded in concentration.

“Make it bride-worthy,” I continued, and Jane raised her face to meet my eyes, her eyes questioning. But she knew better than ask it.

"Boxes of female wears will arrive later today. Make sure they are arranged into respective places in the dressing room of the master's bedroom. Do you understand?”

"Yes Boss,” Jane replied, her voice laced with surprise.

“I want all of it done before noon tomorrow. Make sure that a mouthwatering display of the best Italian cuisine is ready and waiting before noon."

“I understand, Boss. Is there something I need to be aware of?" Jane asked, brushing her brown ponytail off her shoulders.

“We are expecting a new member of our household tomorrow. I am bringing home my wife," I announced, watching her intently.

“Your wife?!" She gasped in shock.

“Yes. I was married yesterday," I replied, showing her the diamond topped platinum band on my finger.

Jane's lips hung open in surprise. “, Congratulations Boss," she said carefully, her tone laced with suspicion she would never admit.

“Thank you. Now get to work. And I don't need to remind not to mention it to anyone," I said.

“You have my word, Boss," Jane replied, bowing slightly as she went out of the study.

I opened a drawer in the huge mahogany desk and removed a certificate.

My wedding certificate.

A smile stretched my lips as I studied it.

Jade suspected nothing when I asked her to sign the certificate first.

She had no idea that the reason I signed last and insisted I keep the certificate, was because I didn't want her to see my signature.

I never wanted her to suspect any foul play.

My mind went back to the first time I ever saw her.

Three years ago.

The shipping company had been established, and her father, Roberts, had not kept his own side of the bargain.

I was watching, from the covers.

He did all he could to keep her from the public eye.

But he couldn't say no to her wish of a lavish birthday.

I attended, my tattoos hidden in a long sleeved oversized shirt that gave off the feel of a business-man.

As she smiled to the camera, I knew I have gotten my pawn.

Jade Roberts is not a kind of lady you find everywhere.

The woman holds the kind of rare beauty that inspires art and forbidden fantasies.

Her beauty isn't loud or demanding; it was gentle, like a song you could never forget.

That night, her curves swayed with a natural rhythm, each step full of quiet confidence.

The fabric of her silk dress hugged her in all the right places, flowing with every movement, as though it, too, was enchanted by her.

When she smiled and laughed, I felt it straight in my balls.

I became a stalker, a shadow, watching her from the tinted window of my taxi cab, waiting for the right time to strike.

Like a chameleon, I found it easy to blend with everyone in Sicily.

The name Luca De Santo ignited terror and dreadful chills, making people have different imaginations about the Devil behind the name.

I have clunked glasses with people who imagined Luca De Santo to be a terrible, horrifying old man.

I have shared gym spaces with other that swore that Luca De Santo is a powerful giant, whose steps shook the earth to it's foundations.

Even in their wildest dreams, they never imagined that the Devil, whose name gave them goosebumps, whose rumoured presence can set the whole town racing, whose threats made the mayor's heart race a mile a minute, was the clean cut young man with flattering, dimpled smiles.

Unexpected surprises is my most effective weapon of catching traitors and betrayers off-guard.

I only show my face when I intend to end your life.

The telephone on my desk rang offensively loud, breaking through my thoughts.

“Boss,” Carlos’ voice vibrated through the receiver. “The men are ready."

I went down the stairs into the basement that served as our training ground and muster station, the echo of my shoes resounding throughout the hall, where thirty of my men stood, their faces stone hard and devoid of emotion.

They saluted in greeting as I stood before them.

My eyes scanned through all of them.

Carlos, my underboss, had summoned thirty of my men who have worked hard to earn a bit of my trust and their lives.

They have been trained rigourously to endure the hardest of pain without a word, to be split-second smart and to aim and fire without missing a target.

They did life without emotions and handled most of the dirty work.

They were every ready to lodge a bullet between the eyes of my enemy at the slightest signal, and leave the scene spotless as ever.

They stood before me, faces set, jaws clenched, palms hovering above their gun holsters, battle ready.

I cleared my throat.

“Someone is trying to play a fast move on me," I began without preamble, my voice deliberately slow, my eyes scanning their faces as I paced in front of them.

“I have given them time, I have shown patience, a virtue I am not known to possess," I paused to let my words sink in.

“They have interpreted my silence as stupidity, and it's high time they face the fury."

“The traitor has seen my face, and has paid the ultimate penalty, but his family are hell-bent on claiming my empire as their inheritance," I paused to pull out my best cognac from the cellar and poured it clean into a glass.

“You let one go scot-free, others are bound to follow suit. It is high time I make them a scapegoat, and teach everyone in my circle that no one outwits Luca De Santo, and own bragging rights."

I stepped closer to my men, cognac in hand, eyes dark, chin raised.

“Your suits are ready and waiting. The modelling agency will send the girls. You all choose your escorts for the day.”

"Brush up, look clean-cut and respectable. Guns should be loaded and well hidden, just in case.”

The men grunted in reply.

"We all know the strategy: Loose some edge, relax your jaw, smile when needed, but eyes on the target. Strike when I say so, when they least expect it,” I paused to down my drink in one gulp.

I filled up my glass again, and raised it in a toast.

"Tomorrow we storm a wedding, and take home the bride.”