After reaching a Close Friend bond with Denham, a new skill unlocked:
"Upright and Unyielding."
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[Upright and Incorruptible: FBI trust level +10%; when you are an FBI member and consistently refuse all forms of bribery while maintaining a spotless record, FBI trust increases by an additional 20%.]
[Current Skill Fragments: 13]
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Great skill.
Not enough fragments tho.
Sixty fragments had gone into Emotional Corrosion, fifty into Defection, and another fifty into Silver Queen.
Now, on top of "Upright and Unyielding," Brian's "Charming" and Nancy's "Motorcycle Phantom" had also unlocked.
Still not enough fragments.
Thinking about Nancy's stamina, Luca chuckled.
This had probably been the easiest bond level-up of his life.
She was even more proactive than Brian. After just a few "battles" at the desk and in the car, their friendship level had jumped.
Her breathing had been no quieter than the roar of the GT-R's engine.
In the days that followed, Luca farmed fragments while preparing for the club's grand opening.
---
Time flew.
It was almost the end of July.
At Stratton, the FBI arrested a senior partner and officially closed the investigation.
Jordan behaved far more obediently this time. He even took the initiative to send a hefty payment to the SEC.
Previously, the SEC had wanted not only to fine him but also to bar him permanently from the brokerage industry. This time, however, they were unusually accommodating. They accepted the money and cursed the partner who took the fall alongside Jordan.
Damn traitor. Parasite of Wall Street. Rot in prison.
"You really need to tone down your company culture," Luca said.
They were on a yacht off Long Island. Luca, wearing sunglasses and loose shorts, lounged by the pool and gave Jordan a pointed look.
"If you stay that flashy, you're going to paint a giant target on your back. Your enemies don't care if your employees are partying themselves to death in the office."
Luca remembered Stratton's infamous culture—office parties, team-building events that looked like spring break documentaries, celebrations on private jets before landing. Any random snapshot from inside those cabins could've been framed as modern performance art.
"Dove, I can't control them!" Jordan protested casually. "I've issued formal notices banning sex in the office during work hours. They just ignore it. High stress environment, you know? Quick stress relief."
Luca: "…"
At that point, Jordan produced a share transfer agreement.
Five percent of Stratton Corporation.
Jordan might have been famous for excess, but he understood how to curry favor with power.
His fraud was trivial compared to major investment banks—and compared to someone like Luca.
And Luca possessed substantial evidence of his crimes.
Black or white no longer mattered.
Might as well become a spotted dog and be done with it.
Jordan spread his arms dramatically.
"Thank God I'm finally free of that damn FBI. I've never felt so relaxed. Dove, consider this an opening gift for the SSR Club. A symbol of our friendship. Please don't refuse—it would break my heart."
Luca glanced at his panel.
Still superficial friend level.
You're even harder to deal with than Denham.
"My friends always tell their stories with a smile," Luca said lightly. "Thank you for the gift. Jimmy, handle this."
He passed the agreement to Jimmy.
Jimmy looked slightly nostalgic.
It reminded him of the old days—himself, Henry, Tommy, and Paulie Cicero. They would "protect" restaurants by taking shares. Goods went in the front door and quietly disappeared out the back.
The restaurant would operate peacefully—
—but practically stripped bare.
If the place eventually burned down, insurance money came next.
A perfectly good business squeezed dry.
Jimmy didn't know what Luca intended to do with his shares. Under the old model, "Jimmy the Gent" wouldn't hesitate to squeeze Jordan until he had to sell the yacht to pay his debts.
But Luca was different.
The small Italian shops under his protection were actually thriving. They stayed open later than competitors.
Meanwhile, other Luchesse family members who practiced short-term greed made quick money—but burned bridges fast.
They discussed investments.
Jordan mentioned he had begun buying into internet companies.
"Yahoo," he said proudly.
Luca nearly slapped him.
Yahoo? That scoundrel? When the bubble bursts, it'll crater.
But for now, the bubble hadn't burst.
Yahoo was still red-hot.
Fine. Ride it up. Exit early. Maybe even short it later.
Jordan had far more market experience. Luca didn't intend to micromanage. He merely advised paying attention to companies like Cisco and Amazon.
Let Jimmy dip in too.
Plant a few seeds.
That evening, the yacht docked.
Soon after stepping off, Luca received a call from Brian.
"Brooklyn tonight?" Brian asked. "Race through Washington Heights?"
Let us roam this mortal world, free and unrestrained!
Just as Luca agreed, Mariggio called.
Dinner invitation.
Bring Matilda.
It sounded like a normal family gathering—but something in Mariggio's deep voice felt off.
When Luca declined the race, Brian grew irritated.
At the Bronx street racers hangout, Brian had been enjoying new status.
Since becoming Luca's man, he frequented the club often. Luca introduced him to Jimmy, Matilda, Leon, and others.
But Luca never brought him to meet the higher-ranking family members. Never introduced him to Mariggio.
The most confusing part?
Luca never interfered with his activities.
He only required one thing:
Monthly payment.
Brian: "…"
What the hell.
I'm yours now, and I still have to pay you monthly?
Didn't you promise big money opportunities?
I'm broke. I haven't even received my paycheck yet. Now I owe my boss first?
Is this what Mafia life is like?
Luca's original words echoed in his mind:
"From now on in New York, I protect you. If anything happens, use my name. Anyone who knows I'm the Dove will give you respect—even the police."
Brian wasn't entirely sure how to monetize "respect."
So he did what he knew best.
He went racing.
Racing was fun. Beat the newbies. Win betting money.
And it had to be said—
The Dove's reputation was insanely useful.
Underground Racers groups were terrified of him. No one dared bully Brian.
Much better than constantly being mocked in Los Angeles.
---
That evening, Luca brought Matilda to Mariggio's home.
Mariggio was in the same generation as Luca's father. Married. Had a Children. His son was two years younger than Luca and still in college—no involvement in the family business.
He wasn't home that night.
Dinner was peaceful and warm.
Afterward, Mariggio took Luca to the backyard.
They sat by the pool, eating fruit and snacks.
"When the Club open?" Mariggio asked.
"Next week. The 30th."
Mariggio nodded. Offered support if any issues arose.
Then he mentioned Dominic—the underboss.
"The Commission held a sit-down recently. Dominic attended."
Luca blinked.
"Didn't realize it was that time again."
Sit-downs were traditional conflict resolution meetings. Mediator present. Guns replaced by negotiation.
Years ago, they were common.
Now? Rare.
Too much federal interference.
Once, the entire sit-down was raided by federal authorities. About a dozen Gambino family members arrested mid-meeting.
Morning arrest. One million dollars in bail paid immediately—ten grand each.
Released by noon.
Returned to finish the meeting.
The prosecutor behind that stunt lost his career.
The Commission hated interruptions.
When men are in a meeting, what the hell are you doing barging in?
"I don't know the meeting's topic," Mariggio said. "I wasn't there."
His gaze turned heavy.
"All I know is the outcome."
He paused.
"The Commission approved two execution orders."
He handed Luca a photograph.
"Luca… you know the rules."
Luca looked down.
His pupils contracted.
Richie Roberts.
Holy—
You want me to kill my precious rare card?
My dear friend?
My valuable asset?
My— cherished family member?