Chapter 3 3

The rhythmic hum of the city filled the silence as Sofia sat in her father's study later that evening. The weight of the day clung to her, and the enormity of her decision pressed down like a physical force. The polished mahogany desk was immaculate, save for a single photograph framed in silver-a younger version of herself standing beside her father. Her gaze lingered on his face, searching for the man she had once idolized before she understood the darkness he wielded.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hall. The door opened, and Luca entered without knocking. His sharp suit was slightly rumpled, and the faint shadow of stubble darkened his jawline, hinting at a day that had been just as long for him.

"You should lock the door," he said, his tone curt. "This house isn't as secure as it seems."

Sofia leaned back in the chair, arching an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were the reason it was secure."

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but it vanished almost immediately. He walked to the bar in the corner of the room, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He didn't offer her one, though she wasn't sure if it was an oversight or a deliberate choice.

"I spoke to the men," he said, taking a sip. "They're loyal, but loyalty only goes so far without leadership."

Her jaw tightened. "You've made it clear what you think of my leadership abilities."

"I never said you couldn't lead," Luca replied, his voice calm. "But leading this family isn't like running a business or arguing in court. It's war-every day, every decision. And war has no room for hesitation."

Her fingers tapped the edge of the desk, a nervous habit she hadn't managed to break. "You're telling me to become something I'm not."

"I'm telling you to adapt," he corrected, his tone sharpening. "Or someone else will take your place, and you'll be dead before you can even argue about it."

The words stung, but she couldn't deny their truth. "Then help me," she said, meeting his gaze. "If you're so determined to keep me alive, show me what it takes."

For a moment, Luca said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then he set the glass down and crossed the room, standing directly in front of her. His presence was overwhelming, filling the space between them with an almost tangible energy.

"Do you really want to know what it takes?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, though her heart was pounding in her chest.

He leaned closer, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "It takes knowing who you can trust and who you can't. It takes making decisions that will haunt you for the rest of your life. And it takes blood-yours, theirs, it doesn't matter. Blood will be spilled."

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted to look away, but his gaze held her captive.

"Then teach me," she said again, her voice softer but no less resolute.

Luca straightened, his expression guarded. "Tomorrow. First lesson starts at dawn."

Before she could respond, he turned and left the room, leaving her alone once more.

The next morning, Sofia found herself in the estate's underground training room, a stark contrast to the opulent décor above. The concrete walls were bare, and the space smelled faintly of sweat and metal. Weapons lined the far wall, from knives to firearms, each meticulously organized.

Luca stood in the center of the room, already dressed in workout gear. He handed her a pair of gloves without a word, his expression as serious as ever.

"We'll start with self-defense," he said. "If someone comes for you, your first instinct needs to be survival."

She slipped the gloves on, feeling the rough material against her skin. "What if my first instinct is to run?"

"Then you'd better run faster than they can shoot," he replied, his tone grim.

The next hour was brutal. Luca pushed her harder than she expected, drilling her on everything from blocking punches to breaking holds. He moved with a precision that was almost hypnotic, his years of experience evident in every motion.

By the time they finished, Sofia's muscles ached, and her shirt was damp with sweat. She leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath while Luca watched her with a critical eye.

"You did better than I thought," he admitted, though his tone lacked any real warmth.

"Thanks for the glowing endorsement," she muttered, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

He smirked faintly, but the expression faded quickly. "This is just the beginning. If you want to survive in this world, you'll need to learn more than how to throw a punch."

Sofia straightened, meeting his gaze. "Then keep teaching me."

The days that followed were a blur of training, strategy meetings, and long nights spent pouring over her father's files. Every decision felt like a test, every interaction a potential betrayal. The captains remained wary of her, though she could see a glimmer of respect in their eyes as she began to prove herself.

Luca was her constant shadow, always watching, always pushing her to do better. His methods were harsh, but they worked. She began to see the world through his eyes, understanding the delicate balance of power that held the DeLuca empire together.

Late one night, she found herself in the study again, her eyes burning from the strain of reading. A soft knock on the door startled her, and she looked up to see Luca entering, a file in his hand.

"This just came in," he said, placing it on the desk in front of her.

She opened the file, her stomach sinking as she scanned the contents. It was a report on the Corsettis, detailing their recent movements and suspected plans.

"They're planning something," Luca said, his voice low. "We need to strike first."

Sofia's mind raced. The idea of taking offensive action was terrifying, but she knew Luca was right. Waiting would only give the Corsettis more time to consolidate their power.

"What do you suggest?" she asked, looking up at him.

His lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Something they won't see coming."

Sofia felt a flicker of confidence, although She didn't know what the future holds.