An Empire Fallen

Chapter One: Little Lamb

Four years ago today, at only sixteen years old, Luca Romano first entered the hallowed halls of the Dynasty manor, an experience he would forever recall as the second most terrifying in his life. Even though it had been so long ago he still remembered it like it was yesterday, the faint earthy aroma in the night sky, the gentle pattering of rain against shop windows, and the warm, comforting glow of the street lamps guiding him home. It was familiar, it was safe. Howbeit, as he turned down a particularly dark alley, one illuminated solely by the glowing full moon in the sky above, everything changed...

In earnest, he remembered little of that night, it was merely blurred images of unknown places, unrecognisable faces and the constant, stuttering reverberations of his heart as it beat against his ribcage. Nevertheless, he could never forget how it felt to hear that name, her name. Líadain Dubhan. He remembered so clearly the bitter, disgusting taste of bile as it rose in his throat as if her name were a poison his body was desperately trying to reject, his heart rattled even faster as it frantically tried to escape his chest, escape the reality of his situation as it washed over him. He was going to die.

Everyone in Sicily knew the name Líadain Dubhan. She had come from Ireland only a year ago in order to expand her syndicate, Dynasty, and with her she brought fire. She scorched the streets of Sicily with her rage, tearing through its streets with an insatiable hunger that no man could stop. And, after she devoured, she built. Líadain Dubhan built the entire underworld in her image and claimed it as her own. And now, she stood before Luca with this gleam in her emerald green eyes that he could only liken to the look of a predator scrutinising its prey, assessing how best to sink its sharp, ivory teeth into their throat. It was as she leaned over him, auburn hair brushing against his cheeks, smirking as she called him 'little lamb,' Luca knew he was to be devoured by the Queen of Dynasty just as his hometown had been.

But he wasn't.

Today, with his eyes shut tight, he took a deep breath in, gripping the gilded handles of the front doors tightly in his hands readying himself to ghost through the halls of Dynasty once again. He had always believed his home was truly beautiful in all its grandeur. With its intricately patterned walls, ivy-covered brick, and sturdy oak furnishings. Each crack and every scuff told an elaborate story that spanned centuries. To the untrained eye, it was pristine, polished, and perfect in every way. Luca had been here long enough to discern between what was real and what was a facade, he could see his home as it truly was. Evil. The walls of Dynasty emitted such cruelty and coldness, as if the souls of everyone its inhabitants had murdered remained within its foundations, waiting, remembering what they had done. Rue had once likened it to a very beautiful prison but Luca believed it to be a graveyard, and the atrocities that had taken place there would be forever buried in the gaps, cracks, and crevices of the manor. Never seen but always felt.

Nevertheless, it had to be acknowledged that Luca was a member of Dynasty only in name, he knew as well as any other he had no purpose here. Yet, every day, for the past four years, he came without fail like a little white lamb to the slaughter. He passed by entirely unnoticed by Rhianna Adébáyọ̀ as she stormed down the stairs with shining tears in her wide doe eyes. He walked the halls unperceived by his Don, Líadain Dubhan as she later held Rhianna in her freckled arms with a gentleness reserved only for her dearest consigliere. He went on unseen by Rosabella Giustizia as she later stood at Ruid Fournier-Pavonessa's defence, ever the loyal friend. Not even his dearest Ruid found a moment to regard him as he stood faced with the combined wrath of Conor McNamara, Líadain Dubhan and Rhianna Adébáyọ̀. Luca would later be told that Ruid and Rhianna had simply had another of their disagreements. Of course, he would always be told of any goings on within Dynasty eventually but, in the moment, there he would always stand, invisible.

On that particular morning, Luca believes the only ones who had taken any heed to his existence at all were Mikołai Kowalczyks and Olivia McCallister. Of course, Mikołai's predisposition to conflict aversion meant that he tended to treat every member of Dynasty with the same bland politeness. Olivia, on the other hand, simply didn't know any better than to be terminally polite to everyone around her. Since she had only been a part of Dynasty for a month, she hadn't had the opportunity to form any kind of allegiances, except of course to Mikołai who had been her University roommate before she had been swept up in the storm of the mafia.