Home > Luca Vitiello (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #0)(4)

Luca Vitiello (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #0)(4)
Author: Cora Reilly

Cradling my bleeding stomach, I watched even as bile crawled up my throat. Father kept glancing my way. I knew he’d punish me if I looked away. The screams rang in my ears, and I shivered. My arms gave way and my cheek collided with the hard floor. The static in my ears soon drowned out the screaming, and then all was black.



The Underbosses and Captains waited in the living room of our mansion. Father stood in the middle and beckoned me forward. Every eye in the room followed me as I headed toward him. I held my head high, trying to appear taller. I was tall for my age, but the men around me still towered over me. They looked at me like I was something they had never seen before.

I stopped right in front of my father. “The youngest initiate the Famiglia has ever seen,” he announced, his voice booming in the room. “Eleven years and already so much stronger and crueler than any father could wish for.”

Pride swelled in my chest. Father had never sounded proud of me, never shown the slightest hint that I or Matteo were more than a burden. I straightened my shoulders, trying to appear like a man in my black suit and wingtip shoes.

“Our enemies will whisper your name in fear, my son. My blood. My heir.”

He withdrew a knife and I held out my hand, knowing what was to come. I didn’t flinch when Father cut my palm. He’d cut me many times before to make me strong for this day. Every time I’d flinched, he’d cut me again and dripped lemon juice or salt into my wound until I hid the pain.

“Born in Blood, Sworn in Blood. I enter alive and I leave dead,” I said firmly.

“You are a Made Man of the Famiglia, Luca. You will kill and maim in my name. You will break and burn.”

A man was dragged into the room. I didn’t know him or what he had done. He was covered in bruises and blood. His swollen eyes met mine and they begged me. No one had ever looked at me like that, like I held all the power.

Father gave a nod and held the knife out to me, the same knife my mother had killed herself with. I took it from him then stepped up to the man. He struggled against the hold of Father’s new bodyguards, but they didn’t release him. My fingers tightened around the handle. Everyone was watching me, waiting for a flicker of weakness, but I was my father’s son and I would be Capo one day. I quickly slashed my hand sideways, drawing the knife along his throat. The cut was messy and blood spurted out, splattering my shoes and shirt. I took a step back as the man’s eyes widened. He was dropped on the floor, horrified eyes staring up at me as he convulsed and choked.

I watched as the life drained out of him.

Two days later, the most important words of my life were inked onto my chest, making me a Made Man for life. Nothing would ever be more important than the Famiglia.









Father’s grip on my shoulder was tight when we entered the Foxy. I’d been inside the place a few times before when he had to talk to the manager. It was one of the most expensive whorehouses we owned.

The whores were lined up in front of the bar and the manager stood beside them. He nodded at Father then winked at me. Father motioned for him to leave.

“You’re thirteen, Luca,” Father said. Surprise washed through me that he’d remembered my birthday was today. He hadn’t mentioned it before. “You’ve been a Made Man for eighteen months. You can’t be a virgin and a killer.”

I flushed, my eyes darting to the women, knowing they had heard my father’s words. None of them laughed, probably too scared of him. I straightened my shoulders, wanting them to watch me with the same caution they watched him.

“Choose two of them,” Father said with a nod toward the whores.

Shock shot through me when I understood why I was here. Slowly, I made my way toward the women, trying to look calm even as nerves twisted my stomach. At almost 5’7”, I was already very tall for thirteen, so the women were eye-level with me in their high heels. They weren’t wearing much, only short skirts and bras. My eyes lingered on their chests. All of them had big tits, and I couldn’t stop staring. I’d seen a few naked girls in our strip clubs but always only in passing, never this close-up. They were all pretty. I pointed at a woman with brown hair and one with blond hair.

Father nodded. One woman grabbed my hand and led me through the back door. The other was close behind me. Eventually, I was alone with them in a big suite at the back of the Foxy. I swallowed, trying to look like I knew what was going to happen. I’d watched porn and listened to the stories the other Made Men told, but this felt very different.

The blond woman began to undress slowly, touching herself everywhere. I stared but tensed when I could feel my pants becoming tight. The brown-haired woman smiled a fake smile and moved toward me. I tensed even more, but I let her touch my chest. “You’re a big boy already, oh my,” she said.

I didn’t say anything, watching her closely. Then my eyes darted to the blond woman again, who’d started touching her pussy. My mouth became dry. The brown-haired woman slid her hand into my boxers, and I released a shaky breath. “Oh, I think this will work out just fine, don’t you agree?”

I gave a nod, then I let her drag me toward the huge round bed in the center.






“I’m fucking glad to be away from Father, but I wish we didn’t have to go to Junior to celebrate my birthday,” Matteo muttered, shoving his shirt into his pants and checking his reflection. It was the fourth one he’d tried on. Fuck, how did he become such a vain bastard? It seemed to become worse every year. Now at fifteen, he was pretty much insufferable.

Cesare shot me a look. He, Romero and I had been waiting for Matteo to get ready for the last thirty minutes.

“It would have been dishonorable to decline an invitation from your cousin when he organizes a party for you,” Romero said, sounding twice his age. He’d turned fourteen a few days ago, and he had been a Made Man since his father died a few months ago. His family needed the money, but we’d known each other for many years.

“I don’t trust him,” Cesare muttered. “He and his family are too ambitious.”

My uncle Gottardo and his eldest Gottardo Junior definitely weren’t in favor of me becoming Capo after my father, but that could be said about all of my uncles. They thought they would be better Capos. “We’ll stay a few hours and then we’ll come back here and have our own party. Or we’ll drive back to New York and go into one of our clubs.”

“Do you really think we’ll be sober enough to drive back to New York? It’s a long drive from the Hamptons,” Romero said, frowning.

Matteo chuckled. “How come you’re so goddamn rule-abiding?”

Romero flushed.

“Come, Matteo. Nobody gives a fuck about your shirt,” I growled when it looked as if he was considering trying on another.

Uncle Gottardo’s mansion wasn’t far from ours, so we walked over. A guard opened the gates for us and we headed up the long driveway to the entrance door where Gottardo Junior was waiting. He frowned when he saw us. “I didn’t expect you to bring more people along.”

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