Dante's blood or Dimitri's blood or Isabella's blood. Maybe all three.
"I'll make the preparations," Luca said.
"Good," Dante said. "And Luca?"
"Yes, boss?"
"Thank you for getting me out of there. For saving my life."
Luca nodded. "Always."
Because that was what he did. He saved Dante's life. He kept him breathing. He stood by him through wars and betrayals and obsessions that consumed everything in their path.
Because Dante was his Don. His leader. His reason for existing in this world.
And Luca would follow him into hell and come out the other side, no matter the cost.
Even if the cost was the end of them both.
***
POV: LUCA
Later that night, after Dante was heavily medicated and sleeping, Luca stood on the roof of the safe house and looked out at Jersey City spread below him.
Twelve years.
Twelve years he'd been at Dante's side. Twelve years of loyalty, of sacrifice, of putting Dante's needs before his own.
