Chapter 3: Under the Surface

The sharp scent of espresso filled the air in the DeLuca family’s private office, a room nestled on the upper floor of their luxurious mansion. The walls were lined with old bookshelves, their spines a testament to the DeLuca family's long-standing influence in both the business and criminal worlds. The only noise in the room was the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional clink of a glass as Tony DeLuca stared at the paperwork in front of him, his mind far from the legal documents he was supposed to be reviewing.

He tapped the end of his pen against the desk, his thoughts elsewhere. The recent violence with the Romanos was weighing heavily on him. His father’s words echoed in his head: Power is taken, never given. But something inside Tony—something that had been stirring for months—was telling him there had to be another way. He couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that if they didn’t change their ways, the DeLuca family would continue down a path of destruction, one violent confrontation after another.

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Tony glanced up to see his sister, Sophie, standing in the doorway, her arms crossed as she regarded him with an unreadable expression.

"You’re still at it?" she asked, her voice smooth and calm, as always. "You’ve been holed up in here for hours."

Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. "Just thinking. About everything, I guess."

Sophie stepped into the room, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. "You always think too much. That’s the problem. You know what needs to be done. You’re just afraid to take the first step."

Her words stung, but Tony didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and stared at her, seeing not just his sister, but the fire that burned in her—a fire that had always been there, even when they were children. Sophie was ambitious, far more than their father ever was, and it had always put her at odds with Tony, who still held onto some semblance of the family values they were raised with.

"Afraid?" Tony said, his tone biting. "You think I’m afraid?"

Sophie’s eyes narrowed, a small smile curling on her lips. "Not afraid. Just hesitant. You’ve been avoiding the truth, Tony. The world doesn’t run on diplomacy and politeness. It runs on power, and you know it."

"Power through violence?" Tony shot back, his voice rising slightly. "Is that what you want? More bloodshed, more bodies in the street? More families torn apart? Because that’s where we’re heading if we keep doing things the same way."

Sophie’s gaze softened, but there was no hesitation in her voice. "The Romanos aren’t going to stop, Tony. And neither are the others who want a piece of this city. You’re going to have to make a choice—stick with the old ways, or bring this family into the future. I’m not asking you to let go of everything, but if we don’t start thinking bigger, we’ll lose it all."

Tony stared at her for a long moment, a mixture of frustration and fear swirling in his gut. He’d always respected Sophie’s intelligence, her ability to think beyond the immediate and to see the bigger picture, but the risk she was proposing felt like too much. It was one thing to expand into legitimate business, something his father had always rejected, but it was another to try and completely change the DeLuca way of doing business. It felt like betrayal.

"I can’t just... abandon everything," Tony said quietly, almost to himself. "The family—this—everything my father built. I’m not sure I can change it all, Sophie. You don’t understand what it’s like to sit in his chair, to have all those people relying on you to protect them, to uphold what he created."

Sophie crossed the room and sat across from him, her expression no longer antagonistic but filled with understanding. She reached for a stack of papers on the corner of the desk, flipping through them idly, as if weighing her words carefully.

"I do understand, Tony. I see the weight you carry every day. I see how hard it is for you, trying to follow in his footsteps. But I don’t think he ever wanted you to be exactly like him. I think he wanted you to be better than he was."

Tony looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. "Better how?"

Sophie leaned in, her voice quieter now. "By taking what he started and turning it into something that doesn’t need to be stained with blood. He built this empire, yes, but he also built it with enemies everywhere. That’s the cost of the life he led. And now, you’re caught in the middle of it. But you don’t have to repeat his mistakes. We have a chance to steer this ship in a different direction."

Tony felt the weight of her words, the truth in them hitting him harder than he expected. He had always admired his father’s strength, his unyielding resolve, but as the years passed and the violence escalated, Tony had begun to wonder if his father had truly known the cost of his decisions. Was there a way to keep the family’s power without losing everything in the process?

Before Tony could answer, the door to the office opened again, and Sal Vitale stepped inside. He glanced between Tony and Sophie, sensing the tension in the room.

"You wanted to see me, boss?" Sal asked, his voice low.

Tony rubbed his face with one hand, still processing everything Sophie had said. "Yeah, Sal. We need to talk."

Sophie stood, giving Tony one last, searching look before walking to the door. "Think about it, Tony. We’re running out of time."

As she left the room, Tony sat back in his chair, his mind swirling. It wasn’t just about power. It was about what kind of man he wanted to be, what kind of legacy he wanted to leave behind. The mafia had always been about survival, about fighting for dominance, but could there be another way? And if there was, was he willing to take the first step into the unknown?

"Sal," Tony said, his voice steady but heavy, "I think it’s time we started thinking bigger."

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