Heir In The Shadows

EPISODE 39

Jax led Luciano back to their room, his hand gripping Luciano’s firmly, as though letting go would unravel the control he had been holding on to all morning.

The moment the door closed behind them, Jax pulled Luciano into his arms, hugging him tightly, his face burying into the curve of Luciano’s neck. He inhaled deeply—Luciano’s scent washing over him like a balm. It always worked like magic, calming his nerves, grounding the storm raging within him.

Luciano, startled at first by the intensity of the embrace, softened against him. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his fingers brushing along Jax’s back.

“I’m fine,” Jax murmured, his voice low, though his hold didn’t loosen. “But I’m worried about you, Lucian. Are you okay?”

Luciano smiled gently, his hand moving up to cup Jax’s jaw. “As long as you’re by my side, I’m good.”

Jax finally exhaled, pressing his forehead against Luciano’s for a brief moment before letting him go. “Let me take a quick shower… wash off the sweat and the dirt from that fight,” he said, his tone softer now. Without waiting for a reply, he slipped into the bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the room, and for the first time since the arena incident, Jax allowed himself a moment to breathe, his thoughts circling Clint Rossi’s arrogance, Don Vittorio’s silence, and the sharp stares from the family. But when he came back out, freshened and changed, all that tension dimmed the moment his eyes landed on Luciano.

Luciano was sprawled lazily on the bed, half-lying down with his phone in hand, his brow furrowed as he scrolled through reports. Even on reunion days, work didn’t leave him alone.

Jax padded across the room and slipped into bed beside him. Luciano instantly put the phone aside, turning toward him.

“It’ll be lunchtime soon,” Luciano said. “Do you want us to join them?”

Jax’s lips curved into a wry smile, though his eyes remained serious. “I don’t feel like it. I’ve been holding myself back a lot, Lucian. I don’t want to… lose it already.”

Luciano tilted his head, studying him. “So what do you suggest we do?”

“I’ll ask Nic to get us something from my restaurant.”

Without hesitation, Jax picked up his phone, dialing Nic. His voice returned to its composed, commanding tone as he gave instructions on what to bring. Afterward, he called Draco directly. “Prepare the order now. Nic will come to collect it.”

Draco, though sent back to handle affairs with Vince, responded quickly and efficiently. Jax ended the call with a curt nod, slipping his phone away.

Luciano blinked at him, surprised. “Wait—you do have a restaurant in this city?”

Jax chuckled softly, his composure relaxed now that they were alone. “Yes. I own a hotel here—La Serata Nera—it has one of the best restaurants in the city.”

Luciano’s lips parted in awe. “Wow… I must say, Jax, you’ve outsmarted the De Luca family.”

“What’s mine is also yours, Lucian,” Jax said firmly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

The kiss was brief, but it carried more weight than words ever could.

---

A soft knock sounded on the door just as Jax and Luciano were resting in each other’s quiet presence.

“It’s Nic,” came the familiar voice from the other side.

Jax rose, his movements precise and controlled, and opened the door. Nic entered carrying two bags, the rich aroma of food immediately filling the room. “It’s all here, boss. Draco over the phone told the chef you like it fresh so, it’s fresh from the kitchen, just the way you like it.”

“Good,” Jax replied with a curt nod, his eyes softening only when he glanced back at Luciano. “Set it down.”

Nic obeyed quickly, placing the packages on the low table near the bed. After a respectful bow of his head, he quietly excused himself, closing the door behind him.

Luciano chuckled lightly, pushing himself up from the bed. “You know, you still act like a boss even when you’re supposed to be relaxing. Poor Nic looked like he was reporting to a general.”

Jax gave him a small smile. “That’s because he is. Except…” he crossed the room, pulling out the food, “…I only have one person I truly serve now.”

Luciano’s eyes softened. “Jax…”

“Sit,” Jax interrupted gently, his tone almost tender. “Eat with me.”

They settled on the bed with the spread between them. Dishes of handmade pasta, roasted meats, and fresh bread filled the space. Luciano’s eyes widened as he tasted the first bite. “This is incredible. No wonder you keep this restaurant hidden away—you’d put half of Italy’s fine dining to shame.”

Jax chuckled, watching him with quiet satisfaction. “As long as you like it, that’s all that matters.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, the air calm compared to the tension of earlier. But Luciano, ever perceptive, finally broke the silence. “You’ve been holding back… ever since the arena. I can feel it. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Jax’s fork stilled against his plate. His jaw clenched for just a second before he placed it down. “What Clint Rossi said… what your grandfather allowed to happen… it doesn’t bother me for myself. But it bothers me for you.”

Luciano leaned closer, brushing his hand against Jax’s. “I told you, Jax. As long as you’re here, I’m fine. Clint’s words are nothing. My grandfather’s silence—he’ll regret it one day. You don’t have to carry all that for me.”

Jax tilted his head, studying him. “But I do, Lucian. Because I won’t let anyone—family, enemy, or so-called friend—make you doubt what we have. You deserve respect, and if they won’t give it, then I’ll take it for you.”

Luciano’s heart clenched at the quiet intensity in Jax’s tone. He squeezed his hand tighter. “You’re too good for me.”

Jax gave him a rare, teasing smirk. “No. I’m just good enough for you. The rest of the world will learn that sooner or later.”

They finished their meal slowly, savoring the food and the rare peace between them. When they were done, Luciano leaned back against the headboard, pulling Jax with him until they were lying close, Luciano’s head on Jax’s chest.

For a long while, neither spoke. The hum of the estate outside was faint, but here, in their room, it was just them.

Jax absently ran his fingers through Luciano’s hair, his heartbeat steady beneath Luciano’s ear.

“Promise me something,” Luciano murmured drowsily.

“Anything.”

“No matter what my family says or does… don’t leave me to face them alone. Even if I tell you I can handle it. Stay.”

Jax tightened his arm around him, his voice low and certain. “I’m not going anywhere, Lucian. Not today, not tomorrow. Not ever.”

And for the first time that day, Luciano closed his eyes and truly felt safe.

---

The long dining table glittered with silverware, crystal glasses, and steaming dishes prepared by the finest chefs of the De Luca estate. Family members settled into their seats, the hum of conversation beginning as food was served.

But there was one glaring absence.

Don Vittorio’s sharp eyes swept the table. Luciano’s chair — empty. The chair beside it — also empty.

His jaw tightened. “Where is Luciano?” he asked, his gravelly voice cutting through the chatter.

The room fell into silence. Heads shifted uneasily until one of the maids, wringing her hands nervously, stepped forward. “Don Luciano and Signor Jax… they, um… they ordered food from outside, Don Vittorio. They said they won’t be joining lunch today.”

A ripple of shock coursed down the table.

“What?” Don Vittorio’s voice thundered. “Ordered food… from outside? In my house?”

Murmurs erupted. Some family members leaned in to whisper, others smirked, enjoying the drama.

Don Vittorio’s icy gaze shifted to his son. “Enzo. This is your doing. You’ve spoiled that boy too much. Allowed him to forget where he comes from, who he belongs to.”

Enzo stiffened, his hands curling into fists on the table. Before he could respond, Elena’s voice — calm but laced with steel — cut in.

“Luciano is not a boy anymore, Dad. He’s a man. No one can control him, not me, not Enzo, not even you. He will eat where he wishes and with whom he wishes.”

A heavy silence followed her words, but James — Enzo’s brother — was quick to seize the opening.

“Respectfully, Elena,” James sneered, “the fact that Luciano has his own gang and calls himself a Mafia boss does not give him the right to disrespect his Nonno. Do you not see? All this arrogance, all this boldness — it comes from that underground fighter he drags around. A stain on our family name.”

Before Elena could respond, Isabella slammed her fork down. “Why are you so bent on hating Jax, zio James? Or are you jealous?”

The table stilled. James blinked. “Jealous?”

“Yes,” Isabella pressed, her eyes gleaming. “Even though my brother left this family from a tender age, he built himself into someone powerful. Respected. While you?” She gestured with her knife across the table, her smile sweet but sharp. “You’re still here, clinging to Nonno’s wings, waiting for his shadow to pass before you can even breathe on your own.”

The shot landed perfectly. Marco and Antonio burst out laughing, and even Enzo and Elena couldn’t hide their smirks.

James’s face burned red, his fists shaking against the table. “You—! This is the kind of mouth your children have, Enzo? Insolent! Disrespectful! This is your failure as a father.”

Before Elena could retort, Don Vittorio’s palm slammed against the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

“Enough!”

Silence fell again. Vittorio’s eyes, cold and cutting, scanned them all.

“We will eat in peace. Since Enzo’s son and his… boyfriend…” his lip curled with disdain, “…will not be joining us, we will do without them. Let them sulk like children. This family does not pause for anyone.”

His fork pierced into his food with finality, and no one dared to speak again.