Heir In The Shadows

EPISODE 37

The study of Don Vittorio De Luca was a sanctum of power. Heavy mahogany shelves lined with old tomes and ledgers stretched to the ceiling. Oil paintings of ancestors—stern men with cold eyes, regal women with sharper ones—gazed down like silent judges. A faint smell of cigar smoke lingered in the air, blending with aged leather and dust.

Carlo led Jax in, shutting the door behind him with a quiet finality.

At the head of the room, behind a grand desk carved with the De Luca crest, sat Don Vittorio. His presence was not loud, but it pressed on the air like the weight of centuries. The old man didn’t rise—he didn’t need to. His gaze, sharp and unyielding, cut across the room to Jax as though stripping him bare.

Don Vittorio (calm, cold): “So. You are the man who dares to call himself my grandson’s lover.”

Jax didn’t bow. Didn’t flinch. He moved with steady confidence, lowering himself into the chair opposite the Don only when Vittorio gave the barest nod.

Jax (quietly): “Yes. I am.”

A silence followed—thick, deliberate. Vittorio studied him like prey caught in the light.

Don Vittorio: “I had hoped Luciano would return with strength beside him. A partner worthy of his bloodline. Instead, he brings me… an underground fighter. A brawler from the streets.”

Jax (even): “I don’t apologize for where I come from. What matters is what I do for him.”

Don Vittorio (leaning forward, voice sharp): “What you do for him? You shame him by existing at his side. Do you understand the weight of the De Luca name? This family has built empires, forged alliances that decide wars. And my heir chooses a man who trades fists for coin.”

Jax’s jaw flexed, but his voice stayed low, steady.

Jax: “He didn’t choose me for alliances. He chose me because I stand with him, not behind him. Because I’d bleed before I let anyone touch him.”

The Don’s eyes narrowed, his fingers drumming once on the desk.

Don Vittorio: “And when power comes to test you? When enemies arrive not with fists but armies? Will you still bleed for him then?”

Jax (leaning forward, gaze hard): “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. But I’ll tell you this—I don’t run. Not from men, not from armies, not from shadows of the past. Luciano is mine, and I will stand. No matter what comes.”

The air shifted. A challenge hung between them.

For the first time, Vittorio’s lips curved—though whether it was approval or mockery, it was hard to tell.

Don Vittorio (after a pause): “Bold words. Dangerous words. You remind me of men who thought they could outlast the weight of this family. Most of them are in the ground.”

Jax didn’t blink.

Jax: “Then I’ll be the exception.”

The silence was thick enough to choke on. Carlo, standing quietly in the corner, shifted almost imperceptibly, as though ready to step in if the tension broke.

Finally, Don Vittorio leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

Don Vittorio: “We shall see, Mr. Jax. We shall see. For Luciano’s sake, I will not move against you tonight. But make no mistake—this family devours the weak. And if you falter, even once, you will not survive it.”

Jax rose smoothly, adjusting his cufflinks with a calm that bordered on insolence.

Jax (meeting his gaze): “Good thing I don’t falter.”

Without waiting for dismissal, he turned and walked out, leaving Vittorio in silence.

The old man’s eyes followed him until the door closed. Then, and only then, did Don Vittorio murmur—half to himself, half to Carlo:

Don Vittorio: “That one… is dangerous. More than he lets on.”

Carlo said nothing, though in his eyes was the quiet gleam of agreement.

---

The heavy oak doors closed behind Jax with a muffled thud. He exhaled slowly through his nose, his jaw tight, fists coiled at his sides. Don Vittorio’s words replayed like poison in his veins:

"You’re not worthy of him. Leave before I make you leave."

He forced himself down the long marble corridor, each step echoing beneath the vaulted ceiling. Chandeliers glittered above him, casting sharp reflections across the polished floor. To the relatives lingering by the walls — glass of wine in hand, murmuring like vultures — Jax must have looked like a shadow cutting through the gold. Their whispers followed him.

“Is that him?”

“The fighter?”

“Looks like trouble. Nonno won’t stand for it…”

Jax’s eyes flicked to them once, cold and unflinching. The whispers died instantly. He kept walking.

---

Meanwhile, downstairs in the grand lounge, Luciano sat with Isabella and his cousins Marco and Antonio. The four of them curled into a corner of the plush couches, a small island of laughter amidst the hum of the reunion.

Isabella leaned into Luciano’s shoulder, grinning. “You’ve changed, fratellino. You look lighter.”

Luciano chuckled, eyes soft. “Maybe because I finally stopped carrying everything alone.”

Marco smirked knowingly. “Or maybe because of him. Don’t deny it, cousin. That man upstairs has something to do with it.”

Antonio whistled. “Something? Please. Have you seen the way he looks at Lucian? Like he’d put a bullet through anyone who dares to breathe wrong near him.”

Luciano tried to hide the smile tugging at his lips. “He’s… different. Not like the others. Not like—” He stopped, catching himself before he said Dax.

Isabella nudged him gently. “I like him already. You deserve someone who would fight for you. And I mean really fight, not just for power.”

Luciano’s chest warmed at their words, unaware of the storm brewing just upstairs.

---

Upstairs, Jax entered Luciano's room, the walls were rich with dark oak panels, family portraits watching silently. Jax ignored it all. He sat on the edge of the massive bed, elbows braced against his knees, head bowed.

His fists tightened. That old bastard thinks I’ll walk away. Thinks I’ll bend because of his title. He doesn’t understand — Luciano is mine.

He dragged a hand over his face, forcing in a breath. But the rage didn’t fade — it simmered. For the first time in years, Jax felt the dangerous itch of his old self, the fighter who thrived in cages and blood.

He muttered under his breath, low and dark, “I’ll burn this whole empire to ash before I let him take you from me.”

At that moment, a knock sounded faintly in the corridor, followed by the muffled voice of a servant summoning someone else. Jax’s head lifted, sharp, paranoid. Already he could feel eyes on him — the De Luca family’s shadows had started circling.

He leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He had two choices:

Tell Luciano everything, let him know his Nonno had already made his move.

Or carry the burden alone, shielding him from the ugliness until the time came to strike back.

His chest clenched as he whispered to the empty room, “I can’t drag you into this war… not yet.”

And so he waited. Waited for Luciano to come upstairs, all light and laughter, while he sat there, a storm caged in silence.

---

Luciano Returns to Their Room

The door creaked open softly. Luciano stepped inside, loosening the collar of his shirt. His face was relaxed, a faint smile lingering from the laughter he shared with Isabella and his cousins.

“Amore,” he called gently, spotting Jax seated on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t come down. I thought you’d be bored.”

Jax lifted his head. His expression was calm, almost unreadable — too calm. “Wasn’t bored,” he said simply, his voice low, steady. “I wanted you to have your time with them.”

Luciano’s heart softened. He walked over, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Jax’s temple before sliding onto the bed beside him. “They all liked you,” he said, a boyish smile tugging at his lips. “Even Isabella kept staring like she couldn’t believe you’re real.”

Jax smirked faintly. “She’s protective of you. I don’t blame her for checking me out.”

Luciano laughed, resting his head against Jax’s shoulder. “They asked where you were. I told them you were resting. Isabella thought it was thoughtful of you to give me time with them.”

Jax’s arm slid around his waist, pulling him closer. He didn’t answer immediately — his mind was still replaying Don Vittorio’s sharp words, that warning laced with threat. But he pushed it down. Luciano didn’t need to know. Not now.

“Lucian…” Jax said finally, his tone softer. “As long as I’m here, you’ll always have someone watching your back. Whatever happens in this house, in this family… don’t ever doubt that.”

Luciano tilted his head, studying him with a curious smile. “That sounded intense for no reason,” he teased. “What happened while I was gone?”

Jax leaned down, catching his lips in a slow, grounding kiss. “Nothing,” he murmured against his mouth. “Just reminding you.”

Luciano sighed happily, leaning into him, completely unaware of the storm that had already started swirling in the shadows of the De Luca estate.

Jax tightened his hold, his gaze fixed on the darkened window. They think I’m just a fighter. Let them. When the time comes, Don Vittorio will learn who he’s really dealing with.