Luca felt like contraband being quietly moved from one gangster to another, shuffled along until Pauli finally drove him to his destination. In the end, Luca was taken to a remote neighborhood in the Bronx and brought into a detached house.
Inside, Luca met the family's godfather, the boss—Victor Morgan. Also present were other key family members, including the underboss, advisors, and several crew leaders. At present, the family had around 200 made members, plus another 700–800 associates, totaling close to 1,000 people scattered across the United States—primarily in major East Coast cities, as well as Florida, California, and other regions.
Las Vegas had many families because of the casino business there. Los Angeles had its share of these issues as well, but Los Santos was even more chaotic than New York.
Only a small number of family members attended the ceremony—perhaps a dozen or twenty men gathered in the room.
The initiation ceremony began quickly. The boss, Victor, asked Luca a series of questions. Finally, he cut Luca's finger with a knife and let the blood drip onto a card printed with a holy image. Then he set it on fire.
Holding up the burning card, Luca chanted loudly, "If I betray my family, or anyone in my family, may my soul burn like this sacred image!"
From that moment on, new members were no longer loyal to God or country, but solely to the family.
After the ceremony, the boss and the others explained several family rules to Luca.
The rule of silence: Keep your mouth shut. Do not inform the government. Do not discuss family business with anyone who is not formally inducted. This rule does not prohibit contact with officials—otherwise, how would they bribe them? How would they maintain "good relations" between the legitimate and illegitimate sides? Silence means never betraying or exposing family secrets.
Blood for blood: Family members are forbidden from fighting one another. If a made member is killed, no one may retaliate by killing another made member without the boss's approval. Before deciding to eliminate another made member, a request must be submitted and approved. In any case, they cannot fight openly among themselves—though what happens behind closed doors is another matter. The Mafia has always been skilled at stabbing its own in the back.
These were the two core rules. Other rules included: no adultery with another member's wife, no beards, and regular tribute payments.
Adultery carries severe consequences, up to and including immediate execution. Homosexuality is also forbidden—the family consists entirely of men, and such behavior is not tolerated, with execution as the penalty.
At the end of the ceremony, the boss and the other members embraced Luca one by one, smiling and offering words of encouragement.
Welcome to the business.
The Mafia rarely refers to itself as "the Mafia." It's simply "the business."
After becoming a made member, Luca's status was no longer what it once was. Although he remained under Marigio's command, he had gone from being "Marigio's guy" to "our guy," a "family man."
From now on, it wouldn't just be Marigio protecting him—the entire family stood behind him. Anyone who dared lay a hand on Luca would face execution by the entire Lucchese crime family.
Now Luca could pursue his own ventures with family backing. If he encountered relationships that were hard to navigate, the family could "help." However, it was up to Luca to decide what business to pursue and what connections to cultivate.
The Lucchese family's operations were astonishingly diverse: casinos, loan sharking, strip clubs, auto theft, smuggling, labor unions, stocks, Hollywood, docks, construction, food distribution—even flour and cod imports. If it made money, they were involved.
The Mafia is a violent yet highly profitable network of "black-market businessmen" bound together by loyalty.
Of course, not every made man prospers. Some accumulate capital, build companies, expand aggressively, and create monopolies. Others struggle, hustling on the streets and resorting to extortion. Associates like Jimmy, who excel at making money, are often wealthier than many official members.
"Luca, what are you planning to do next?" Marigio asked after Luca returned to the bar. They were drinking together. "Want to work with me? We could team up."
Facing Marigio's expectant look, Luca smiled and shook his head. "Boss, you know me. I'm not interested in the drug trade."
What a joke. Frank's blue magic had already taken over most of New York, and the federal government was cracking down hard. When that hammer came down, three-quarters of the city's narcotics officers would be deployed. Luca wouldn't even have time to stash a gun before ending up behind bars. Only a fool would charge straight into that.
Hearing Luca's refusal, Marigio shook his head in disappointment. He knew Luca was extremely cautious and rarely involved himself directly. At most, he would move stolen goods through other family members and stay out of the rest. He preferred to collect quietly rather than get his hands dirty.
Marigio could understand. In his view, Luca wasn't suited for business—only for killing.
Since Luca declined, he didn't push. Running a business wasn't an official family assignment.
"So what are you planning to do?" Marigio asked curiously.
"Keep taking contracts from the Continental Hotel? Being a hitman is riskier than dealing drugs."
"I'm tired of constant fighting and killing. I'm thinking of opening a club."
"A club? What kind?" Marigio asked. "A sports club? You into rugby or the NBA?"
"No, no. A private club. Mid-to-high-end."
"Oh~~~"
At the mention of "club," Marigio understood.
Mafia members love opening bars and clubs. Many family members frequent them—for fun, for business, for discretion. A club is practically a second home. There are even weekly lovers' parties where older men gather to indulge behind their wives' backs.
Marigio had lost count of how many clubs the Lucchese crime family owned.
"You won't make much running a club alone. And if you won't touch drugs, you'd better set up an underground casino inside. That's where the real money is."
"I'll think it over carefully," Luca said with a smile.
An underground casino was viable. But Luca's real purpose for opening the club was different: to collect powerful character cards, recruit talented individuals, build relationships, expand his network, learn new skills, and consolidate resources to break into highly profitable industries.
The Mafia cannot officially bring in outsiders. And not everyone is like Matilda. A club provides neutral ground—anyone can enter, so long as they offer value.
Luca never chooses the wrong person. Those he selects are exceptional—almost fated.
Of course, there are tragic protagonists completely outplayed by villains, like David Mills from Se7en. Those are exactly the kinds of people Luca might need to save.
That afternoon, after learning that Luca had been "officially promoted," Jimmy eagerly invited him to his bar to celebrate and handed him a box containing 100 million in cash.
Jimmy and Henry were impressively efficient at handling such matters.
Luca accepted it with a smile.
This would be the last time.
From this point forward, Luca intended to cut all ties with the flour business to prepare for his club venture.
Soon, New York would change.
As Frank's "blue magic" grew more rampant, it was also drawing closer to its destruction. When his drug empire collapsed, the New York DEA would undergo a massive reshuffle—an upheaval Luca could already foresee.
"Have you seen the news lately?" Henry asked the other two. "Washington's talking about drugs again. They're threatening another large-scale crackdown. Hahaha! How many times have they made that speech? Has it ever worked?"
Jimmy laughed. "The louder Washington yells, the better Blue Magic sells." He pulled a comical face. "Everyone's afraid it'll disappear—so they stock up while they can~~~"
Luca smiled but said nothing.
He remembered the report.
America's number one enemy is the rampant drug problem. To defeat this enemy, a new full-scale offensive is required. The federal government had announced a fresh war on drugs in Washington, New York, Chicago, and beyond.
Luca knew this was the calm before the storm.
This time, the federal government was serious.
Watching the two of them laugh, Luca suddenly lost interest. The wine and the pretty girls no longer appealed to him. He prepared to take his money and leave.
But before departing, he offered one piece of advice:
"Here's some advice for both of you: walk away from the drug business now."
His expression was serious. His gaze swept past Jimmy and settled on Henry.
"New York is cracking down hard. If you get caught, even the family won't be able to save you."
Jimmy frowned and thought it over. Drugs were profitable—but not worth alienating Luca. Better to stay close to someone rising fast.
Henry felt his heart skip. After a moment of inner struggle, he nodded. "Okay, okay, I'll do whatever you say. I swear, starting tomorrow, I'm done."
"Please do. You can trust me completely."
"Very good." Luca patted Henry's shoulder with a smile. "Good man. You're the most honest guy I've ever met."
Henry thumped his chest proudly. "Everyone calls me Honest Henry!"
Luca opened his arms and gave him a firm hug. "I believe you."
Five days later, Henry—outwardly compliant but inwardly defiant—was caught red-handed by narcotics officers while trafficking drugs.
He wouldn't even listen to his boss Pauli—why would he listen to Luca?
The arrest happened right in front of his house. He had just gotten into his car to make a delivery when police surrounded him.
"Police! Don't move! You motherfucker, you idiot! Or I'll blow your brains out!"
Henry froze, not daring to move—but felt a strange sense of relief.
At least he could hear them.
If it had been an assassin sent by the family, there would have been no warning—just silence and a bullet.
The Mafia is highly skilled at killing its own, especially when executing members. They often assign the task to a close associate.
Caught red-handed, Henry felt his life was over. If Paul learned about the drug dealing, he'd likely order his execution.
Maybe… he could turn informant in exchange for protection?
Henry stepped out of the car with his hands raised.
At that exact moment, a sniper's bullet tore through the air and struck him squarely in the head.
On a distant rooftop, Leon lowered his sniper rifle, turned, and vanished into the darkness.
He pulled out his phone and made a call.
"Mission completed."
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