..
LUCA'S POV
Fucking traitors. f*****g rats.
The Bratva wasn’t what it used to be. Back in my father’s days, a traitor didn’t even live long enough to confess—his tongue was ripped out before he could speak a single word of betrayal. And now? These motherfuckers had the audacity to steal from me. To defy me. To challenge my goddamn throne.
Not a f*****g chance.
Kirill's voice droned in my ear, but I barely registered it. My fingers curled into a tight fist against the armrest of my chair, the leather creaking under the force. My head was pounding, a mix of whiskey and seething fury. I wanted blood. I wanted screams. I wanted to remind the world why the name Ricci was feared.
“The shipment wasn’t stolen—it was seized. Someone tipped off the government task force. And the Rossetti Maf
