Chapter 1

**DAMON POV**

"Damon, I'm so sorry for your loss." My best friend Angelo said as we walked into the estate. I simply nodded as I looked at the lavish marble floor.

Today was one of the most painful and excruciating days of my life: the day I had to watch my father be buried next to my mother.

My idol, role model, and father, died in a car explosion two days ago. And for two days, I've been a complete and utter shit show. I lost my mother to cancer when I was 9, and after her death, my father did everything in his power to make sure I was raised properly.

I still don't know how that man managed to run the Italian Mafia and still make sure he was home every night to prepare me intended. He ran one of the largest operations organized crime has ever seen, yet still always made time for his one and only child.

Being the heir to The Italian Mafia, my father made sure I was properly prepared for my duties when I turned eighteen. He trained me extensively in every area I would need to be a great leader: martial arts, shooting, business, negotiation, persuasion, anything and everything to help me be successful.

My father trained me with love, care, and respect. A method that was unusual and looked down upon in the Mafia world. He never laid a finger on me nor did he verbally degrade me in any way. He firmly believed that I didn't need to beaten to a pulp consistently to make me tough. Likewise, he made sure I knew that I was loved by my father.

His brother, my Uncle Martin, made sure to verbalize his disagreement with my father's training methods. He said it would make me soft and a weak leader, a leader that would be unfit to rule the Italian Mafia. He trained his son, Martino, and in ruthless and cruel ways. Constantly, beating him, and forcing him to undergo torture sessions regularly in order to make him a merciless killing machine.

My Uncle Martin's words would get to me at times when I was younger, but my father was confident that I would be leader to take this Mafia to new heights, to make it better than ever before.

Four years ago, my Uncle Martin was caught trying to overthrow my father. So he executed his own brother in front of the entire Mafia, sliced his neck open, to show everyone in the organization what happens to traitors.

My father's funeral, ended only one hour ago, and now Angelo and I walked towards my father's office, where I will be now officially declared the Don of the Italian Mafia. It was quite intimidating being twenty-three and rising to such a responsibility. Most Dons were in their forties or fifties, and I would now be the youngest Don in the world.

Gio, my other best friend, was standing outside the door of my father's... my office. He walked towards us as we neared the massive wooden doors.

"You ready for this, brother?" He said as he gripped my shoulders firmly.

I've known Angelo and Gio my entire life. Both of their fathers died for the Mafia, so this organization was their way of carrying on the legacy of the family. They were both a year younger than me, and I've always considered them as family.

Angelo was a prodigy when it came to hacking. He can get into any security system, database, software, you name it, and he can access it. Gio was more of a brute. Shooting first, and asking questions later. He was one of the toughest men I've ever known, except he was lacking substantially in the strategical department. I've planned to make them my under bosses when I take over, confident that their abilities will propel this Mafia forward.

I simply nodded as Gio slapped my shoulder before pulling me into a tight embrace.

"You're going to make a great Don. We'll stand by you no matter what happens." Gio said before he pulled back from the bro hug, Angelo nodding at us, affirming his words.

I took a deep breath, before I opened the double doors and walked into the large office. The estate was located in Genoa, and the mansion was on top of a mountain overlooking the beautiful ocean below. The floor to ceiling windows displayed the beautiful moonlit waters below us, and I could see why my father enjoyed the view so much.

I walked up to Beto Hernandez, my father's right hand and Capo. He was standing in the center of the office surrounded by higher ranking members of the Mafia, everyone standing with their hands behind their backs in a sign of respect. I quickly walked over to him, and stood in front of him.

"Damon DeAlgarro Carbone. Today you will rise and take the thrown of the Italian Mafia. Do you accept the responsibility?" Beto asked as he jumped right into the ceremony.

"I, Damon DeAlgarro Carbone, accept the responsibility. I will live, breathe, fight, and die per la famiglia. I will be loyal until my last breath, and do everything in my power to ensure safety, success, and prosperity." I said reciting the vow I've had engrained in me since birth, trying to make my voice as confident as I can.

"The Mafia is not just an organization, ma una famiglia, and as a family, everyone has a say in whom they shall follow. If anyone objects to Damon DeAlgarro Carbone ascending to Don, speak now." Beto stated as he looked around the room.

It felt as if the silence grew even stronger as the tension filled the room. It stretched on for what seemed like hours as I stood there, focusing on Beto instead of the surrounding members.

"I reject this new Don." I heard a familiar voice scoff as anger filled my body at the disrespect. All heads turned to the back of the room, where my cousin Martino, was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Your reasoning?" Beto asked with his eyebrows raised. Martino pushed off the wall, and started calmly walking towards us.

"A Don is meant to protect his members, protect his family." He said as he slowly started to close the distance between us.

"Which is what I intend to do." I said with an edge to my voice.

"You're a weak man, Damon. Too soft to rule over this Mafia." He said as he turned his body to face the members of the Mafia.

"We are the fearless and powerful Italian Mafia. What would our rivals think if we let this soft, weak, pathetic man lead us? Would you really trust him with your life? Would you really trust him to protect you and your families?!" He started to yell as he faced the members surrounding us. Whispers filled the air as I looked around the room.

"What are you proposing, Martino?" Beto asked as he stared at him with a deadly glare.

"Damon and I are from the same heritage. I should be Don, I could bring this Mafia to new heights." Martino said as he turned around and glared at me.

"If you're truly capable of leading this family, fight me, right here, right now, and prove to everyone that you'd be fit enough to be our Don." He said as his face morphed into a scowl.

I looked around at the members, they were whispering under their breaths and watching my every move. Waiting to see if their future Don will rise to the occasion.

"I accept your challenge, cousin." I said as my hands balled into fists at my side and a cocky smirk stretched across his face.

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