"The Price of a Brother"

Rain poured like judgment over the cracked cobblestone alley behind Club Vanta, a place where secrets came to die. Elián Cruz stood handcuffed to a rusted pipe, shirt clinging to his soaked skin, lip split and swollen. Blood trickled down his chin and mixed with the dirty water pooling at his feet.

Across from him stood a man in all black, his presence colder than the storm. Tall. Silent. Unblinking.

Luciano De Luca.

The Don of the De Luca syndicate. The man they called The Viper—because when he struck, you didn’t feel it until you were already bleeding.

Elián lifted his head, jaw clenched. “I already told your men. I don’t know where my brother is.”

Luca’s polished shoes clicked with eerie rhythm against the wet stone as he stepped forward, each pace deliberate. His eyes—ice-gray, emotionless—swept over Elián, not with pity, but with the detached interest of a predator deciding whether to play or devour.

“You don’t need to know where he is,” Luca said, voice smooth and lethal. “Because you’re going to replace him.”

Elián narrowed his eyes. “The hell does that mean?”

Luca crouched, slow and calculating, until their faces were inches apart. “Your brother stole from me. Not just money—he sold my routes, betrayed my house, tried to vanish. Now the only thing keeping him breathing is you.”

Elián’s fists balled behind him. “So kill me, then.”

Luca smiled, but there was no humor in it. Only steel. “Tempting. But I don't waste beautiful things... when they can be broken slowly.”

Elián's heart thudded.

Luca rose to his full height, towering over him. “You’re going to marry me.”

The silence cracked louder than the thunder overhead.

Elián jerked back. “What?! You’re sick.”

Luca tilted his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not personal. It’s strategic. A De Luca marrying the brother of a traitor? It sends a message. Control. Redemption. Submission.”

“You think I’ll wear a ring and smile like your lapdog?” Elián spat. “Screw you.”

Luca turned as if bored. “You’ll do it because you love your brother. Because you're not stupid. And because you know I don't make threats—I make examples.”

“You don’t want me,” Elián growled. “You want power.”

“I already have power,” Luca said flatly. “What I want is for every enemy of mine to look at you and know you’re mine. A living, breathing symbol of my mercy—and my control.”

The handcuffs unlocked with a brutal snap. Elián gasped as his arms dropped, wrists raw and bleeding.

He stumbled to his feet, spine straight despite the ache in his muscles. “This is a damn circus to you.”

Luca took one slow step closer. “No. A circus entertains. I conquer.”

Their eyes locked in the downpour. Raindrops streaked across Elián’s cheeks, but his stare didn’t waver. Neither did Luca’s.

“You have 24 hours to decide,” Luca said softly. “Marry me, and you’ll be dressed in silk and chains. Refuse... and your body will vanish with your brother’s sins.”

Elián swallowed. The air felt colder. He knew monsters existed—he’d grown up around enough shadows to know when one was real.

But Luca wasn’t a monster.

He was a god dressed in ruin.

As the Don disappeared into the storm, leaving only the scent of cologne, blood, and rain behind, Elián was left alone with one cruel realization:

He wasn’t afraid of dying.

He was afraid of what would happen if he said yes.

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