Luciano Fierri [Book #3]

Bonus Chapter 1.2

Luciano's POV
Cesare insisted that he come with me, but I wanted him here with Valeria just in case I didn't return.

I wasn't a fighter. That was one thing I knew for certain about myself. But I'm a Fierri and Fierri's will do any and everything to protect their family.

I was able to catch up with my brother Niccolo just before he took off. We tailed Pescatore, spotting his black van swerving in between lanes and cutting off other vehicles.

The tires on Niccolo's car screeched to a halt, New York's traffic getting in the way of me catching and killing Pescatore. 

"Give me your gun," I demanded, fuming with insurmountable rage as Pescatore's van became smaller and smaller the more distance he gained.

"Luci-"

"Give me your fucking gun, Nic!" I shouted angrily, cutting him off. 

He blinked at me, shocked at my sudden burst of outrage. I've never once shouted at my brother. He's also never seen me this angry. 

He nodded, grinning proudly as he handed me his gun. "Give him hell, fratello(brother)."

Oh believe me, I will. 

I unbuckled my seat belt, swung open the car door, and bolted, passing several angry driver's in the process.

Taking the gun off safety, my eyes narrowed at the sight of the black van turning into an alleyway.

Sprinting, I reached the alleyway, knowing it was a dead end and that Pescatore would be trapped. Cornering him, he got out of his car, cursing at his error.

He slowly turned around, a dark and evil smile stretching the wrinkles on his face. He eyed the gun in my hands. "Non hai le palle, ragazzo(You don't have the balls, boy)," he said with a contemptuous laugh.

"Hai ragione. Lo non(You're right. I don't)." I dropped the gun and kicked it out of reach.

Pescatore raised his eyebrows in confusion and curiosity. "What is this?" I balled my hands into a fist, shifting into a guarded stance. He caught on, laughing once more. "Oh I see. Baby Fierri's all grown up now."

The corners of my mouth curled up into a smug grin. "You can thank your wife for that," I commented, licking my lips.

The smile on his face vanished, a frown taking its place as he growled and lunged. He tossed his gun and struck my jaw with clenched fists. I stumbled back, but quickly gained the upper hand when he tried to hit me again, but missed.

Jabbing him in his rib-cage, years and years of pent up rage exploded out of me and I just kept swinging. I was running on emotions, thoughts of a bruised, battered, and saddened Valeria flashing in my mind.

The old man lost his footing and crumbled to the ground. I looked down at him, admiring what my fists had done to his face. He was damn near unrecognizable, portions of his face swollen and red.

Straddling his hips, I roughly gripped his chin between my ringed fingers. His eyes widened, as if finally realizing that I wasn't nearly as weak as he initially thought.

"You really are a Fierri."

A deep, menacing chuckle erupted deep from within the pit of my stomach. "I'm not just a Fierri. I'm Luciano Fierri, puttana(bitch)!"

Striking him in his face repeatedly, I didn't stop even as I felt the bones in my hands crunch and his blood paint my face and knuckles red.

I didn't hear my brother calling out to me until he was seizing my arms and pulling me out of Pescatore's reach. "Basta(Enough)!" He shouted when I kept struggling against him. "He's dead, Luci."

He whipped me around and shook some sense into me, to in which I relaxed my shoulders and forced myself to calm down. I looked down at my hands, Pescatore's blood on them. I smiled, not feeling an ounce of remorse for the death I'd caused.

He was the first person I had killed.

I killed him.

It didn't hit me until I saw the look on Niccolo's face. He wasn't sure whether to be proud, concerned or both. He grabbed the back of my neck, pushing me forward.

"Wipe that smile off your face, fratello(brother). Because I'm never letting you do that shit ever again."

I think he was scared because he saw a part of my brothers in me. And it was a part that he's tried so hard to protect me from becoming. 

When we got back in the car, Niccolo must have noticed that I kept staring at my hands, because he suddenly pulled the car over and cupped my face in his hands. Forcing me to look up at him, I made note of the serious expression marking his features.

"Promise me you'll stay good."

"What do you mean?" I asked, cocking my head to the side in confusion.

"Promise me, Luci!" He barked. "Promise me you won't become like us." He looked down, his voice softening as he added, "like me..."

"I...I p-promise."

Niccolo sighed and ruffled my hair, before pulling away from me. "Good boy."