Chapter 96 HEALING
.
.
.
AUTHOR’S POV
The once chaotic mansion had settled into an eerie stillness.
A week had passed since that fateful night—the night fire had swallowed their enemies whole.
The night that had left them all scarred in ways they had yet to understand.
Adeline had barely left her room.
She laid curled up in bed, her body wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, but it wasn’t just the blankets that held her.
Vladimir refused to let go.
The sixteen-year-old clung to her like a lifeline, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his head resting against her shoulder as he slept.
For the first time in what felt like forever, they had been able to sleep peacefully. No nightmares.
No fear.
No waking up to the sound of gunfire or the cries of the dying.
But peace didn’t mean healing.
The wounds were still there—fresh, raw, and bleeding beneath the surface.
Luciano had kept his distance from them, knowing they needed time to breathe.
He had taken control of the remaining chaos, dealing with the aftermath of Leonardo and Bianca’s deaths, ensuring that their enemies knew exactly who reigned over them now.
But not everyone was handling things well.
Angelina had fallen sick—a deep sorrow settling into her bones, the betrayal of her husband and his gruesome death too much for her to bear.
Rose had locked herself away, refusing to step out of her room.
But while everyone grieved, Braxton stepped up.
Despite his own pain, he took care of them both, making sure Angelina ate, making sure Rose didn’t waste away in her grief.
He had matured overnight, a boy forced into a man’s role because the world had given him no other choice.
Luciano had noticed it.
And though he wasn’t the type to openly praise, he had made sure Braxton knew he was proud of him.
But not all wounds could be healed with words.
Not all wounds could be healed at all.
Charles and Luciano had spent more time together than they had in years.
They never said it out loud, never acknowledged it, but something between them had changed.
They had fought together.
Killed together.
And in some twisted way, it had rebuilt the brotherhood they had lost.
They weren’t the same reckless boys they had once been, but they were something else now—partners.
And Luciano, despite his cold and calculated mind, had only one real concern left.
Adeline and Vladimir.
Alessandra had been relentless in her worry, her motherly instincts refusing to let her rest as she continuously asked about them.
Luciano had reassured her, but it wasn’t enough.
“They need time, Mother,”
he had told her when she brought it up again at breakfast.
“They just lost their mother. They just lost everything.”
But Alessandra wasn’t convinced.
“Leaving them alone is not a good idea,” she said, shaking her head.
“They are family. We should be helping them heal.”
Isabella, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up.
“The kids have suffered enough,” she agreed, glancing toward her mother.
“Adeline may not have liked Bianca, but she still thought of her as a mother. It’s not easy to move on from that.”
Luciano sat quietly, listening, not giving away what he was thinking.
And then, Francesco spoke.
“Why don’t we get Adeline married?”
The room fell into a tense silence.
Luciano’s eyes slowly lifted to meet Francesco’s.
A cold, unblinking stare.
Francesco, despite the shift in the atmosphere, continued.
“Marriage will help her focus on something else. Give her a reason to move forward in life. It could help her.”
Alessandra nodded, considering it.
“It could be good for her. And Vladimir is a mature boy for his age. He could learn under you and Charles, get the guidance he needs to become the man he is meant to be.”
But Isabella frowned.
“Mother, she’s still young,” she countered, shaking her head.
“It would feel like we are pushing her out. Let her heal first. Let her feel like part of this family again before we make decisions for her future.”
Luciano remained silent.
His fingers drummed against the table, his mind unreadable.
And then—
He smirked.
A slow, dangerous smirk.
“Adeline is not a chess piece to be moved around,” he finally said, his voice low and controlled.
“She is not some tool to be used to fix what has been broken.”
Francesco opened his mouth to argue, but Luciano’s gaze darkened.
“She will marry when she chooses to. And only when she chooses to.”
A tense silence stretched across the table, the finality in his words shutting down the conversation entirely.
Alessandra sighed, leaning back in her chair. She knew there was no arguing with him now.
Isabella simply nodded.
Because despite everything, they knew one thing for certain.
Luciano always got what he wanted.
Adeline stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the crisp white blouse tucked neatly into her fitted black skirt.
It reached mid-thigh, hugging her curves. The outfit was alluring, andnotice how different she looked.
Her dark brown hair was straightened, sleek and glossy, cascading down her back with a few strands framing her face.
The light makeup, her lips painted in a soft nude shade that complemented her flawless complexion.
She looked… powerful.
For the first time in weeks, she felt powerful.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her handbag and stepped out of the room, her black heels clicking softly against the marble floor.
As soon as she emerged, her eyes landed on Vladimir and Charles, both dressed impeccably in tailored suits.
Adeline stepped out of her room with an air of confidence that belied the turbulence of the past weeks.
As she walked down the corridor of Charle’s penthouse, her heels clicking steadily on the polished floor, she was greeted by the sight of Vladimir and Charles waiting.
Both men were dressed in tailored suits. Vladimir’s suit was a dark charcoal that contrasted with his fair skin, while Charles’s suit was a classic black, exuding authority and refined elegance.
Vladimir stood confident.
Adeline reached out and gently adjusted a stray lock of hair on Vladimir’s forehead, a small, caring gesture that seemed to say without words that he was stronger now than ever before.
“Let’s go,”
Charles said, his tone brisk yet reassuring.
Their destination was Luciano’s company.
Soon enough, they found themselves in the meeting room—a spacious, well-appointed space where every seat was filled by key players in Luciano’s empire.
The polished oak table in the center reflected the determination in the eyes of the men and women gathered around it.
Charles greeted everyone with a nod and a few quiet words of acknowledgment. Luciano, approached and shook hands first with Charles and then with Vladimir.
The room fell into a quiet hush as everyone settled into their assigned seats. Luciano cleared his throat and began to speak in a calm, measured tone that resonated with authority.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious room,
“the reason we are here today is to announce a significant change in our operations.”
His eyes swept across the room, pausing briefly on each face before finally coming to rest on Vladimir.
“I have decided to hand over Ricardo’s empire to Vladimir. Effective immediately, he will be managing the operations, making the decisions that will guide our future.”
For a moment, Adeline felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet.
“As you all know,”
Luciano went on, his voice now taking on a more explanatory tone,
“I will remain by Vladimir’s side to provide support and guidance, but the decisions from this point forward will be made by him. This change is necessary for the evolution of our operations. We have suffered losses, and it is time to ensure that the future is built on strength, loyalty, and clear direction.”
Luciano leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together as he regarded Vladimir carefully.
“You have been through hell, Vladimir. But now, it’s time for you to take what was stolen from your father and make it your own. This is no longer about revenge—it’s about power. And I believe you have what it takes to lead.”
Vladimir’s fingers twitched slightly. Finally, after a long moment, he exhaled and sat up straighter.
“You think I can run this empire?”
His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it.
“You think I’m ready?”
Luciano smirked slightly, leaning forward.
“I wouldn’t be putting this in your hands if I didn’t. You’ve always had the mind for strategy, and despite what you’ve been through, you never let your emotions control you. That’s more than I can say for some men twice your age.”
Vladimir chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head.
“You say that, but you forget—I’ve spent my entire life watching men like Charles, men like you, play this game. I know what it takes to survive, but leading an empire?” He scoffed.
“That’s a different beast.”
Luciano’s gaze darkened slightly.