𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘟 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵
𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓃𝑜 𝒩𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓈 𝒟𝑒 𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒶 is known as the head of the De Luca mafia, a man whose name strikes fear across the criminal underworld. R...
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⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙♡☼⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙
3 Months Later.
The studio felt like my sanctuary, the place I came to when I wanted to pour my heart into something creative. Luciano's surprise to me after our wedding, this art room, had become one of my favorite places in the house. The soft smell of paint and canvas always calmed me. Today, though, the room was bustling with energy, and I was halfway through finishing one of my most important pieces yet.
Tomorrow is Luciano's birthday party, and it's going to be grand—my mother-in-law has been planning it for weeks. She's hosting it as an evening event so we can celebrate into the night. At midnight, when the clock strikes twelve, it will officially be his birthday, and we'll welcome it with cheers, confetti, and cake.
But for me, the most special part of the evening will be the gift I've been working on in secret.
A few weeks ago, Luciano casually mentioned wanting a canvas portrait of himself. He'd said it in his usual teasing way, but I knew he meant it. I wanted to give him that, but not just any portrait. It had to be extraordinary, something that would leave him speechless. That's when the idea came to me: I would paint not just Luciano, but also his father.
I'd gone to my mother-in-law for help, asking for a picture of his father. She'd teared up at the request but gave me the perfect photo, one where his father looked proud and strong. It felt right, combining them into one canvas—a father and son forever together, even if only through art.
Now, as I added the final strokes to the portrait, I stepped back and admired my work. The painting captured Luciano in all his intensity, standing tall and commanding, while his father was beside him, their expressions a mix of pride and strength. From a distance, it almost looked like they were in the same room.
"I wish I could have met you," I whispered, staring at his father's face.
I set the canvas aside to dry, carefully locking the room so Luciano wouldn't accidentally stumble upon it. He was downstairs with his brothers and some of his men—thankfully, distracted.
