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92.72% Marvel: Impregnation System / Chapter 149: Chapter 144: Lucky Incorporated

Chương 149: Chapter 144: Lucky Incorporated

Next Morning,

"So it's done?" Ricky asked, glancing at Meyer, who was meticulously reviewing the documents.

This wasn't just a typical mafia meeting, it was the beginning of a new cooperation, one that they believed would eventually grip the world in a stranglehold. 

For now, though, it was known to these few as something else entirely.

'Lucky Incorporated'

Originally Lucky, much like before, protested vehemently against the name, finding it completely embarrassing.

So Ricky really took his words into consideration and thoughtfully submitted the name behind his back. 

Ricky had honestly decided to name all his business ventures after Lucky as a form of respect, with the Trust being the sole exception, bearing the name Luciano.

Everyone in the room would serve as the foundation for the massive corporation it was destined to become in the future. 

For now, however, it consisted of the following individuals:

Board Members:

Lucky Luciano

Ricky Luciano 

Meyer Lankey

Chores Macgillicuddy

Samuel Frost (Agatha's Coven)

CEO: Chores Macgillicuddy

CTO: Samuel Hawke

Just A Brief Description: Samuel Frost has become the designated liaison that has been chosen by Agatha and approved by all the elders. He is also the grandson of Cedric Hawke and Seraphina Wren who are one the oldest elders residing on the council. Samuel is a very quiet but firm man who has been working with Chores extensively within the Magical engineering department and has received Chores personal approval as well.

The other positions were already being filled by some of the more technological members of the coven like the COO, CFO, and along with some high ranking mobsters within the Luciano family including Lil Tony.

However these were only the positions as the requirements that were needed and paperwork was what really set these back.

Companies required corporate bylaws, a registered agent, business licenses and permits, a core bank account held at Lucky Legacy Bank, operating agreements, tax registration, insurance, employment agreements, intellectual property protection, and various other arrangements all which were being met.

But for now, Lucky Incorporated was owned entirely by the Luciano Family Trust. 

Since private shares were not promised to Chores or those in managerial positions unless the company went public, at which point they would receive shares based on their contributions.

But those details didn't concern anyone in the room and with Lucky Legacy Bank approving the low interest loan, the only question that remained was whether the products would fail or succeed in the market.

"It looks like Lucky Incorporated is in business," Meyer said with a grin, clapping his hands as the others followed suit, applauding the achievement and yet, Ricky remained seated, his posture slightly tense.

"What about the patents-"

"All were filed, approved, and are officially under the ownership of Lucky Incorporated," Meyer reassured Ricky, who gave a subtle nod, still processing that he actually made a company.

Out of all the products and blueprints Ricky had carefully devised, he decided it was best to give Chores some breathing room as he handed him just seven, knowing that overwhelming him would do more harm than good.

Them being Stainless Steel Insulated Mug, Electric Kettle, Coffee Maker, Steel Refrigerator, Blender, Vacuum Cleaner, and the Wine Cooler.

There were many reasons Ricky held back from flooding the market with additional products, but the most pressing one was the technology itself. 

Chores, despite his talents, struggled to develop three key products: the Air Conditioner, Washing Machine, and Stainless Steel Microwave. Each posed unique challenges in terms of design, efficiency, and the integration of the cutting-edge technology that the blueprints had envisioned.

The technology simply wasn't there for these advanced products, and Chores would need to dedicate more time to furthering his research and finding viable alternatives. 

Until then, they had their core products, those that were ready for market and had been meticulously refined by Chores and his team. 

They had poured countless hours into perfecting these items, ensuring that the technology, materials, and cost-effective production methods were optimized. 

The result was a lineup of products that promised to deliver significant profit, allowing the company to build a strong foundation as they waited for further advancements in their more ambitious projects.

So much so that rumors began to fester, whispering through the streets of Staten Island.

Residents caught faint murmurs of the groundbreaking products that were quietly brewing behind closed doors, stirring a sense of anticipation. 

The secrecy only added to the intrigue, as people speculated on what the Luciano family might be preparing, something big, something that could reshape the market and put their name in every household.

"Alright, Chores, you ready?" Ricky asked, rubbing his hands together as he looked at Chores, his gaze steady. 

His colleagues gathered around, the room thick with anticipation and every eye was on Chores, waiting for him to give the word as it was time for the next phase of the plan to unfold.

Chores had more or less proven himself to the Coven, earning a place not just as an ally, but as an honorary member of the Magical Engineering Division. 

Agatha, recognizing his potential, had ordered a sizable portion of the coven to lend their talents, assisting Chores in the production of the groundbreaking items. 

Together, they worked tirelessly, and soon, the first ever employees of Lucky Incorporated were born.

It was only a small step and not a complete certainty but under Ricky's leadership, the future of the Luciano family was no longer just rooted in crime as it was intertwined with innovation, power, and the shifting tides of a world on the brink of change.

"Yes, Slick, I really think we can do this," Chores said, his voice steady and confident as he gave Ricky a firm nod, a silent promise that the work ahead would be done right.

"What about you, Sammy? Is the Coven ready?" Ricky asked, leaning his head on his hand while his gaze became steady onto Samuel who adjusted his glasses.

"Yes, to highlight this we are sending some of the rowdy children who are less enthusiastic about our goals towards your family," Samuel's eyes gleamed, and Ricky understood as he nodded.

The purpose of a coven was for a collective of witches and warlocks to unite, offering each other protection, fostering innovation, and creating a shared sense of belonging. 

But with the protection now provided by the Luciano family, the coven no longer had to dedicate their energy to evading or hiding from witch hunters as this shift allowed them to focus on their craft and goals without the looming threat of being hunted.

Instead, they were free to function as true harbingers of magic, devoting their time and energy to their studies and advancements. 

At the end of the day, magic stemmed from the pursuit of knowledge, and these practitioners, despite their power, were all nerds at their core, obsessed with unlocking the secrets of the arcane and pushing the boundaries of their craft.

But not everyone embraced the change. Some of them found the idea of being holed up in a room surrounded by books, endlessly scribbling arithmetic equations, to be stifling as it wasn't the life they had imagined when they first delved into magic. 

That's where the Luciano family came in, offering a different kind of freedom, a chance to channel their talents into something more tangible, something that promised power, influence, and a purpose beyond the confines of research

"Good, send 'em over," Ricky nodded, his tone firm but satisfied and Lucky leaned back in his chair with a proud smirk, his posture relaxed as he stood up.

"How about a celebratory drink to celebrate-"

"Aye, AYE!" Frank shouted from the front of Italiano's, his voice cutting through the room as the doors suddenly burst open, drawing everyone's attention.

BAM

"GET 'EM!" Frank roared, prompting several grunts to tackle the two intruders. 

Chaos suddenly erupted inside the establishment, leaving everyone confused, everyone except Ricky, whose eyes widened in recognition as a familiar face was forced onto the floor.

"PLEASE, JUST ONE SECOND-" James yelled, only to be cut off as Frank's fist smashed into his mouth, silencing him instantly.

"Sorry about that Boss, I'll take care of this-"

"Bucky?" Ricky stood up, momentarily thinking his eyes were deceiving him. But as he focused on the familiar face, the memories rushed back. 

Bucky struggled beneath the weight of a grunt's hand, pressing his face into the floor, trying to look up despite the force keeping him down.

"L-Long time no see." Bucky joked, his voice muffled but carrying a hint of humor at the irony of their reunion as Ricky burst out laughing as he quickly waved his hand, signaling the grunts to release Bucky and the other intruder and without hesitation, they stepped back, letting the two men get to their feet.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ricky asked, extending a hand to help his old friend up. Bucky accepted the help, dusting himself off and rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

"Geez, I haven't seen you in f*cking forever." Ricky was a little surprised at his own sight, thinking he'd never see the guy before him again, standing tall above the grown Bucky who had to look up.

It wasn't really discussed much, with so many pressing matters at hand, but those growth tonics from the Coven had significantly amplified Ricky's growth spurt. 

At 15, he was already 5'11, but now he stood tall at 6'3, on the verge of clearing the next inch.

Bucky, standing at around 5'10, was momentarily caught off guard by Ricky's towering height and more solid build before breaking into a smile at his old friend.

"C'mon, don't just stand there and gawk, how have you been?" Ricky slapped his shoulder, happily surprised at his sudden arrival.

"It's a long story, but if you wouldn't mind, it'd mean a lot if you heard James out," Bucky said, feeling even more guilty at how he needed to direct the conversation to the side while pointing to James and Ricky raised a brow, curious.

"You know these guys, Slick?" Frank asked, his gaze steady as James stumbled to his feet.

"I know Bucky here," Ricky replied, patting Bucky's shoulder with a smile. 

"We were in the same orphanage before Lucky took me in." Ricky laughed, slinging his arm around Bucky in a familiar gesture.

"Come on over here, tell me what I can do for you," Ricky said, patting his chest and guiding Bucky to the side. 

"Wait, I'm here for James, and if you remember, he's the guy who fended off those bullies who chased us from the baseball field all the way back," Bucky said, not wanting to leave James behind and the latter, still holding his face, flinched before nodding his head.

"Oh, yeah, hey, come on over too." Ricky didn't remember this guy, but he simply nodded and beckoned him over as Lucky made room in the booth.

Samuel and Chores took the opportunity, quietly moving to the booth nearest to them, making space for the two new arrivals.

"Man, it's been what, eight years?" Ricky asked, eyeing Bucky, who nodded with a nostalgic smile.

"Almost nine." Bucky sheepishly chuckled, feeling incredibly awkward as the mobsters with cigars in their hands all gazed down at him.

"So what have you been up to, are you all squared away or?" Ricky asked, reaching into his coat about to pull out some money only for Bucky to shake his head.

"I'm doing good, I got an apprenticeship at a mechanic shop and an apartment that I rent with Steve," Bucky informed Ricky, rubbing the back of his neck at the later part of his sentence.

"Don't tell me wonderboy is still mad." Ricky laughed in nostalgia, a little surprised he remembered the nickname but Bucky ducked his head.

Sigh

"Yeah, he's still the old stubborn Steve," Bucky laughed, sharing a moment with Ricky before his attention shifted to James, who was visibly shrinking under the cold stares from Lucky and Meyer.

"Alright, Bucky, I made you promise all those years ago that if you ever needed something, you'd come to me. So, what can I do for you?" Ricky recalled, looking at his old friend while raising his cigar and with it, Bucky hesitated, glancing over at James before meeting his gaze once more.

"James, your turn," Bucky whispered, nudging him with his elbow and James coughed awkwardly, hesitating before finally speaking up.

"I-I work at the steel factory, Sheffield's Steel f-f-f-f-factory and I-I-I-I-" James literally couldn't even spit out the words, stuttering through the nonsense that stumbled out of his mouth.

"Kid, just spit it out," Lucky grumbled, rolling his eyes in impatience, eager for James to get to the point.

"Seriously, time is money, kid. Stop wasting it," Meyer warned, his tone sharp, as Ricky crossed his arms and nodded in agreement.

"Seriously man, if you have something to say, then f*cking say it." Ricky frowned, side-eyeing Bucky who forced a smile at his met gaze.

"T-The steel mill is closing!" James shouted, finally cutting to the chase and it made Ricky glance at Lucky, then back at James, his expression hardening as the weight of the words sank in.

"And?" Ricky asked, a hint of confusion in his tone as if this fact was obvious which Bucky quickly picked up on this. 

"You knew about this?" Bucky asked, his voice laced with surprise, as if he couldn't believe Ricky had kept such a thing hidden. 

The tension in the air broke as the others around them burst into laughter as even Chores started cackling from the side.

"Kid, we're in the business of knowing things," Lucky chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye as if the whole ordeal had been a poorly kept secret. 

"They're moving to Pittsburgh, right?" Lucky asked, glancing over at Meyer. Meyer took a moment to think it over before giving a slow nod while Ricky leaned on his hand, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you came here to tell us that, Bucky, please." Ricky sighed, clearly frustrated, as he leaned back in his chair. 

He glanced at Bucky, then back at James, who had shrunk into himself, with any bravado he might have had completely drained as he seemed like he could barely summon the courage to speak.

"Ricky, I know you don't owe us, or anyone, anything, but could you really just hear me out?" Bucky's voice carried a hint of desperation as he locked eyes with him as Ricky simply gestured to him, giving him the floor.

"Hit me with it."

"Buy the steel mills-"

SNORT

Lucky was the first to laugh, his snort echoing in the room with it making Ricky follow, his laughter booming, joined quickly by Meyer, whose face was turning red with how hard he was laughing. 

James, on the other hand, was visibly shrinking into himself, almost on the verge of tears as he shifted uncomfortably. 

Bucky, perplexed, ducked his head, his brows furrowed in confusion, unsure of what was so funny.

"Buy the Steffield-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Lucky wanted to repeat his words, only to laugh out loud and interrupt himself.

This went on for a good, exhausting five minutes, the laughter echoing through the room, before Ricky finally wiped a tear from his eye and looked at Bucky with a smile.

"Listen Bucky, you don't know this but the Steffied family f*cking hates us, like really hates us." Ricky chuckled, explaining that although they were laughing at him, that it had more layers to it like some sort of onion.

"But looking past that, why would my household appliance company want a f*cking steel mill?" Ricky asked, trying not to laugh right in Bucky's face since the idea was absurd.

"Ricky, that mill supplies the jobs of over 20,000 people, they'll all lose their jobs and-"

SIGH

"And like I said, why would I buy it?" Ricky asked with a sigh, his gaze steady on Bucky, who was still struggling to find a reason that would make sense. 

"To save their jobs-"

"And?" Ricky continued, uttering one word and interrupting Bucky while looking around, feeling like some sort of cartoon villain.

"T-They are gonna close down the steel-"

"James, buddy, they get it." Bucky gently stopped him, seeing the desperation in James's eyes as he looked at Ricky before ducking his head.

"Listen, Bucky, is it?" Meyer leaned forward, and Ricky leaned back, already anticipating that the accountant was about to unload some chagrin.

"It's actually more cost-effective if Lucky Incorporated doesn't own a factory yet and instead outsources the manufacturing," Meyer explained, making it clear that buying the factory wasn't beneficial in the least.

"The biggest problem is that the Sheffield Steel mill, a mill that was built to produce steel, was not made to produce appliance parts-"

"But can't you just-"

"Kid, a steel mill's entire purpose is to produce steel, it is a completely different process and requires completely different factory machines than a production company would need," Meyer tried to explain to Bucky, who felt as if he was shrinking before him.

"The Sheffield Steel Mill is a sunk cost, something that would need to be entirely stripped down to its bare bones, which is the factory itself, offload and sell the machines, then buy all the required machines to produce the parts needed, and finally get a steady stream of materials to make those parts," Meyer's words towered over Bucky, who looked up at him as Ricky shook his head.

"Basically Bucky, he's saying that it's a waste of money-"

"Ricky, please." Bucky suddenly interrupted him, looking at him earnestly, knowing it was a lot of work, but the only person he believed could do anything about it was sitting right in front of him.

"I know it is shallow, coming here after not speaking for eight years and asking for something completely outrageous." Bucky voice shook, his hands gripping his pants as they shook slightly.

"But this 20,000 jobs, Ricky, half of Brooklyn works at that mill, and every single one of those workers lives in a borough here, please." Bucky was practically pleading, the desperation in his voice clear. 

He knew how much this could mean for all the blue-collar workers, like himself, who depended on that mill for their livelihood.

Sigh

Ricky sighed and looked at Lucky, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on him as if expecting Ricky to make the decision alone, without a single word of advice.

"How much is it?" Ricky asked, his voice steady, as everyone around him sighed, exchanging looks as if he was crazy for even considering it.

However, even if it was only for a short time, even if he didn't remember much of his time in the orphanage, there was one thing Ricky would never forget. 

He remembered the moment when he was beaten and left in an alley, how Bucky and Steve had carried him to the nearest hospital. 

Ricky never forgot that act of kindness, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he owed Bucky but James, sitting next to him, ducked his head, because he wasn't owed jack sh*t.

But this wasn't just any steel mill; this was one of the largest in America and despite the recent job cuts during the Depression, which had reduced the workforce to 20,000, hiring was picking back up as the economy began to recover. 

Slowly but surely, America was healing from the scars of the Great Depression, and although the growth was modest at first, there was a sense of optimism returning to the country's industrial heart.

"They wanna offload it and scrap it for parts, so, maybe eight, maybe ten million-" Meyer gave a general outline, including the past relationship Ricky had with the Steffield family, knowing that it would have to be at least this much.

"Jesus." Lucky couldn't help but drop his jaw, his disbelief palpable. Frank immediately stepped up, his anger evident.

"Just say the word, boss, and they're gone." Frank's tone was sharp, his hands clenched, clearly furious that anyone had the audacity to ask for something so outrageous.

"Slick, the investment wouldn't be worth it as I've set up meetings with other factories for parts-" Meyer quickly tried to interject as Ricky crossed his arms, closing his eyes before looking back up at Bucky.

"I'll think about it, Bucky, I really will." Ricky stood up, cutting off Meyer mid-sentence, who looked as though he might tear his hair out in frustration.

It was such an outrageous sum, but there was a reason Ricky was actually confident, unlike his family, and that reason was Cardinal Sebastian.

Flashback To Chapter 124 

"It concerns your inheritance, more specifically, what you are set to receive now that you've become the sole heir to the Black Knight family." Cardinal Sebastion notified Ricky, currently still in his trial state of mind.

"Oh cool, am I a little richer?" Ricky asked, already suspecting that he would get something for being the sole heir of the Percival family legacy.

"Ricky, the Bank Of The Vatican isn't as simple as that-" Cardinal Sebastion sighed heavily, explaining to Ricky since it was important.

What makes the Vatican so powerful and influential isn't merely the holy and religious power that resides within its depths, but its financial power. 

More specifically, the Vatican is its own separate country with its own distinct rules and also possesses its own private bank.

This was another instance of a butterfly flapping its wings due to the cause of Ricky's presence.

Originally, Pope Pius had established the Vatican Bank in 1942, but because of Dracula's continuous night raids and efforts to destroy him, the Vatican's financial situation had become perilous.

In 1933, the Church had shrunk to minuscule operations as when Mussolini acknowledged them as a country, he did so without recognizing the Papal States.

Furthermore, the Vatican was incurring annual losses of 100 million lire a year, and the Great Depression had caused its asset portfolio to shrink by 30%. 

However, Pope Pius's close aide, Bernardino Magaro, had convinced him not only to establish the bank but also to expedite the process.

It was why, with everything that happened, 1933-1934 was declared a holy year, allowing the Vatican to finally stabilize. 

But what made the Vatican Bank so influential, and its most valuable asset, stemmed from a few key factors.

The most important factor being that they had unprecedented financial freedom, meaning they didn't have to disclose much about the comings and goings of their finances. 

Furthermore, the Vatican State is completely immune to extradition and has the authority to dictate its own laws.

It was because of this that they could hide all of their income sources and how much they truly owned but more importantly, they could conceal the Black Knight's assets. 

Being the Black Knight not only allowed Ricky to inherit the Ebony Blade but also all the assets tied to it. 

However, the most valuable asset wasn't just the tangible wealth, it was the asset of association.

The value of the Black Knight's assets was akin to that of the church's holdings in real estate. Ricky actually owned four mansions in Scandinavia and two in Britain, but with only around a million in actual currency, except, not really. 

Since Ricky didn't have to divulge his accounts or disclose the extent of his wealth, he could literally pull ten gold bars out of nowhere and, as an honorary Bishop of the Vatican, claim they came from the bank. 

With his position and the Vatican's immunity, no one could question it, everyone would be forced to accept his word. 

The Vatican's financial flexibility allowed him to manipulate and maneuver assets in a way few could even imagine.

In short, the Vatican's financial power allows Ricky, as the Black Knight and an honorary Bishop, to operate with almost no oversight. 

He can claim ownership of massive assets, including real estate and wealth, all under the umbrella of the Vatican's finances. 

Because the Vatican's financial dealings are shrouded in secrecy, and Ricky's position grants him near-complete autonomy within their system, he has the ability to move mountains of wealth with little to no accountability.

But if this couldn't get any better, any juicer, as an honorary Bishop and part of the Vatican's financial structure, Ricky falls outside the typical taxation rules due to the Vatican's status as an independent state. 

The Vatican is not subject to the same taxes that other countries impose, and its financial dealings are not required to be disclosed publicly. 

To put it entirely bluntly, the church's financial activities are often shielded by its status and legal immunities, which means Ricky could exploit this system without the usual concerns about taxation.

That meant, in essence, the money Ricky has been collecting, including Rockefeller's, would effectively be cleaned through this system. 

So basically, Ricky has unknowingly stumbled upon an unlimited laundering machine that prints out big 'f*ck you's' to anyone who says otherwise.

"Are you f*cking kidding me?!" Ricky laughed out, gazing incredulously at Cardinal Sebastion who flinched at his words.

"Child, language." Cardinal Sebastion reprimanded him as he was surprised by his sudden vulgar words.

"I know what you might be thinking, but although I am against the notion of using it as a shield, the church is all but desperate for funds and we would like to ask you for donations." Cardinal Sebastion ducked his head in shame, having been forced to tell Ricky this since Pope Pius was intent on this being worded in this shameful way.

BAM

Suddenly, ten gold bars slapped onto the ground before Cardinal Sebastion who widened his eyes in shock.

"Ha, that Pope is something." Ricky knew exactly what Pope Pius wanted and simply gave him a little donation to show he would relent if he didn't ask where he got the funds.

"T-This-"

"It's something I got after expelling the mob families back in Sicily, take it to that Pope and Cardinal." Ricky waved at Cardinal Sebastion, clearly intent on exploiting this system to its fullest.

"Thank you." Ricky smiled warmly, radiating this bright expression towards Cardinal Sebastion who completely mistook this expression as him wanting to support the church.

"No child, thank you."

END OF FLASHBACK

"Let's set this aside for now and grab a drink, for old time's sake." Ricky stood up abruptly, turning to the others and about to give them a raincheck.

"I'll catch up with all of you later-"

"We get it already, go." Lucky waved him off, and Ricky laughed, slinging his arm around Bucky's shoulder.

"You too, James." Ricky yanked James's collar, the poor man still frozen in place as they walked out of Italiano's.

"Lucky, it's just not a good idea-"

"No, it could be an investment." Lucky pulled out a cigar, waving it in Meyer's direction as Chores peeked his head over the booth.

"May I contribute to this conversation?" Chores suddenly asked, Lucky and Meyer looking at him but shrugging and gesturing.

Chores stood up, towering over Frank, who flinched, momentarily forgetting just how imposing Chores really was before he settled back into the booth.

"I agree with Lucky, but I don't think it would be an investment in terms of monetary value," Chores explained, offering his perspective as Lucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his take.

"I don't understand, it's a sunk cost-" Meyer, thinking of it more from a money sort of view, couldn't see where Chores was going with this.

"But it's about loyalty." Chores interrupted, his opinion catching Meyer off guard and Lucky's interest.

"I know that inside this bubble, everyone really goes along with the Luciano family, but the impressions on the outskirts of Brooklyn and other boroughs are very low," Chores continued, his voice carrying the weight of reality that others often ignored.

"The extermination of the other families not only let the Luciano family gain enormous reign over the people, but it caused unease and fear," Chores explained, simply telling him his observations with a detached calmness.

"I understand that fear is necessary in this line of work, but outside of Harlem and the inner regions of Brooklyn, everyone loathes Slick." Chores continued, his tone steady and serious as he looked around the room.

"I see it first hand in Staten Island, the discourse that makes many residents unsettled." Chores revealed, causing Frank to scrunch his brow at someone daring to hate Ricky behind his back.

"But how is a factory gonna help people like him, we're mobsters, they don't have to like us but they better respect us-" Frank asked, unable to really see that big picture but this was where Lucky chimed in.

"Franky, what the guy is saying is that it forms a sense of loyalty that will build across the working class, the blue-collar workers and in that sense, their families and everyone around them." Lucky said, puffing out a stream of smoke from his cigar as he glanced at Chores.

"I understand that it would be an enormous investment, but having 20,000 people feel like they owe Slick might be worth it in the future," Chores finished explaining. Lucky looked at the door Ricky had left through before leaning back, deep in thought.

"Well, that's something the boss needs to decide."

Meanwhile At A Bar,

"Ah~" Ricky let out a refreshed sigh, setting down his mug filled with beer and looking at Bucky, who was wiping his mouth.

"Enough of the money talk, tell me what you've been up to, how you've been?" Ricky nudged Bucky, drawing a chuckle from his old friend.

"Well, nothing much but after you left I just sort of-"

Bucky continued, recounting the events that followed his departure as he and Steve had grown up with a relatively normal childhood, the kind that didn't stand out in the grand scheme of things. 

But where Steve had shown a certain aptitude for academics, Bucky had always been the type to lose himself in the physical world, more comfortable working with his hands than his mind and school had never really been his thing to begin with.

Steve, on the other hand, had always been more thoughtful, and it was during those formative years that a certain teacher, Edna Crosley, had played a pivotal role in shaping him. 

Bucky described how Crosley's influence had awakened something in Steve, a sense of responsibility and a desire to protect those around him, making him more of a patriot.

The changes in Steve weren't immediately noticeable to most, but Bucky could see the subtle shift in him. 

He noticed how much that teacher, Edna Crosley, had impacted Steve, even if it was hard for him to admit it. 

It wasn't just the lessons in the classroom, but the way Steve seemed to carry a new sense of purpose, a quiet strength that Bucky recognized but didn't fully understand at the time.

After high school, their paths had naturally diverged and Bucky, true to his nature, became an apprentice mechanic, reveling in the satisfaction of fixing and repairing cars. 

It was hands-on work, and it suited him perfectly as he really loved the challenge of bringing machines back to life, feeling at home in the grease and oil, where he could see immediate results from his effort.

Steve, on the other hand, took a more traditional route as he worked part-time at a local soda shop to help pay his way through college. 

He wasn't one for mechanics or manual labor like Bucky, but he was dedicated to his studies, warning to join the government or become a police officer.

"I'm just learning the ropes, but I want to open my own shop one day," Bucky said with a chuckle, not fully believing in the dream himself as he felt it paled in comparison to Ricky's world, but he just smiled, unbothered by the disparity.

"Can I get a friend's discount?" Ricky teased, nudging Bucky with a grin and the latter chuckled, shaking his head.

"Just for you, Ricky, I'll make you pay 15% more," Bucky joked, and they both laughed, the sound fading as they turned their attention forward.

The silence settled in, and Bucky held his mug of beer, his fingers wrapping around the cool glass as he paused, staring into the amber liquid before finally opening his mouth to speak.

"Ricky, Listen, I'm sorry I never came to see-"

"Bucky, come on, don't be like that." Ricky scoffed, pushing Bucky in a playful way to make him stop, looking at the bar mirror at the side and seeing a clear look of guilt on his face. 

Unlike Steve or Ricky, two polar opposites with clear views, goals, and dreams, Bucky simply wanted to enjoy the things around him.

He didn't want to be rich or become the strongest, hell, he didn't even want to be the best mechanic.

Bucky simply wanted to live a good fulfilling life and have the people around him enjoy it to the fullest, he wanted to enjoy life.

However unlike Ricky who was adopted into a household with a good strong family and a father who guided him, Bucky and Steve remained unadopted.

It was why Bucky never took Ricky's offer, because Steve didn't have anyone and Bucky wanted to be there for him.

But Ricky never blamed or resented him for staying behind since at the end of the day, Bucky was his own person who made his own decisions and he had learned to respect that.

"I know why you didn't come and I get it, from your view my actions look very scummy." Ricky sighed, setting the mug of beer down and looking forward as Bucky ducked his head.

"But I'm not gonna hate you cause you think in a different way, because who cares." Ricky joked, looking forward since this was what he honestly believed.

There were way too many philosophies and beliefs in the world to care about a single one and Ricky, he was the type to go with the flow.

It was cut and dry to him; if it made sense to him, then it made sense and if it didn't, then it didn't.

Ricky couldn't care less what other people thought as long as they didn't try to force their beliefs onto him or get in his way, then it might get a little physical.

"Listen Bucky, believe it or not but everyone usually doesn't like me." Ricky turned to Bucky, receiving a light chuckle from him.

"I know, hard to believe since I look like every other lovable schmuck, but people really hate me," Ricky continued, shaking his head as if it was actually hard to believe.

"But just cause they don't like me doesn't mean I'm gonna come after them and their families, I'm not some psycho." Ricky shrugged, knowing that if he went after everyone who disliked him then everyone in New York might cease to exist.

"I move down my line just like any other guy. My only problem is when people get in my way." Ricky held out his hand, drawing a line onto the bar counter with some peanut shells.

"Even when people try to shame me or push their beliefs onto me, I couldn't give a single f*ck unless they step on my line." Ricky then pointed onto the faint line, pressing onto it as if showing Bucky first hand.

"But no offense, Bucky, even if you wanted to, you couldn't step on that line. So, you shouldn't feel like I'd hate you or something." Ricky waved his hand, dismissing the idea that he was even a threat to him.

Ricky looked at Bucky, and he saw was a high school graduate, an apprentice mechanic, while Ricky was the head of the Luciano family, a world far beyond the one Bucky inhabited.

"Well, when you put it like that, I guess I feel a whole lot better," Bucky rolled his eyes, his tone playful and Ricky laughed, nudging him in return.

"Anyways-ah!" Bucky was about to say something else, only to recoil in surprise at a bird flying past him and landing on the counter.

"We have arrived!" Alexander proclaimed, holding up his fury paw as Ricky raised an eyebrow.

"What are you guys doing here?" Ricky asked, knowing he didn't call for them as Chester fiddled with the translation ring on his claw.

"Did Chores not tell you, I am the new CLO (Chief Legal Officer) of Lucky Incorporated." Chester started talking and his words made Bucky freeze, almost pale as his finger pointed at the crow talking in front of him.

"T-That bird is talking!" Bucky stuttered, his eyes widening as Chester side-eyed him.

"I have a name, human." Chester turned to Bucky, holding out his wing towards the fearful human since this was common for him.

"I am Chester, nice to meet you." Chester, leaving so much out of his introduction, introduced himself to Bucky who looked at Ricky who gestured him towards the wing.

"Don't be a dick, shake his wing." Ricky, completely enjoying the scene, urged him on as Bucky weirdly shook Chester's wing.

"But wait, does that mean-"

"Yes, I have passed the New York State bar." Chester already anticipated, finishing Ricky's words as he scrunched his brows.

"How in the hell did you manage that?" Ricky almost had to ask, finding it hard to believe they would let Chester take the bar.

"Lucky has formed an identity for me and so to the bar association, I am Chester Crowsworth, age 38, and a white male." Chester revealed his concocted identity as Ricky side-eyed Alexander who shook his head.

"I have already voiced my complaints, but my friend here is determined on that poor last name-"

"It is not 'poor' it signifies what I am and brings recognition to my species." Chest said, voicing how much he actually liked this name.

"Well whatever, congratulations Chester Crowsworth." Ricky obviously poked fun at Chester who raised his head in a dignified way.

"Thank you." Chester then flapped away, clearly knowing it was a joke but wouldn't give Ricky the satisfaction of showing a reaction.

"What about you?" Ricky looked at Alexander, already munching on a peanut and shrugged.

"I am not one for a tedious job, I do not need to prove myself, I am Alexander The Great." Alexander boldly proclaimed, already proving himself in history and having no such desire to make another name for himself.

"You wanna get drunk with me?" Ricky asked, seeing Alexander nod his head while munching on a peanut.

"I am inclined to accept." Alexander then stood up, looking at Bucky simply staring at the gerbil.

"May I?" Alexander asked, holding out his fury paw and Ricky, side-eyeing Bucky, took off his translation ring and handed it to the gerbil.

Popping it around his body like some sort of belt, he stood before Bucky and puffed out his chest.

"I am Alexander the Great, from the banks of the Aegean to the distant lands of India, my name has been whispered in awe and fear. I have defeated armies twice my size, shattered the power of the Persian Empire, and built an empire that spans from the Mediterranean to the farthest reaches of Asia. With the strength of my will and the sharpness of my sword, I have rewritten history, and it is with all of this, that it is nice to meet you." Alexander almost had to make it a grand spectacle, Ricky simply drinking his beer while Bucky watched incredulously through it all.

"I-I'm Bucky, a mechanic." Bucky stuck to a short greeting, looking at Alexander holding out his paw for a hand shake as he stuck out his finger, shaking the tiny paw slightly.

"It is nice to meet you, Bucky The Mechanic." Alexander smiled, looking at his disciples' old friend he had heard in passing.

"I-"

BAM

"DAMMIT!" A man shouted, bursting open the door of the bar as a shuttle of blue-collar workers all shuffled in.

It wasn't unusual for these workers to come to their favorite bars after a hard day of work, it was just that they came at the end of the day rather than the middle of it.

"Dad?" James, who was meekly sitting next to Ricky and trying to just go with this weird flow, turned back to see his father amidst this shuttle of workers.

"James, what-where the hell were you!" Herold marched over to his unruly son, the very same one that had been acting weird as of late.

"You damned brat, you not only missed a day of pay but the news that the-"

Gulp

Herold furiously tried to lecture his son until Ricky swiveled around in his bar stool, holding his mug of beer and curiously observing the exchange.

"M-Mr. Luciano." Herold immediately bowed his head, knowing exactly who this man was since for a while, you couldn't go an entire day without seeing his smug smile in the paper.

The other blue-collared workers, all furious at the news that hit them today, all suddenly tucked their tails in the face of Ricky.

"Just call me Slick, my pops is the real Mr. Luciano." Ricky chuckled, placing his mug of beer over the counter and refilling it himself while the bartender felt a little out of place.

"Did my boy cause you any trouble because I know he's a little rough around the edges but please-"

"Nah, it ain't like that." Ricky shook his head, revealing the mug all the way until the foam was puffing up before turning around.

"I used to play ball with James a while back, we ran into each other along with my buddy here Bucky, and now we're just catching up." Ricky waved his hand, dissuading any misunderstandings right here as Herold slowly nodded.

"But I'm guessing you guys heard about the mill?" Ricky asked, sipping on the mug as the workers who showed gazes of despair.

"They just said it outta nowhere, blabbing on about how this was for the good of the company, but what about us, what about the guys who risk their lives for their profit!" One of the workers got really emotional, almost screaming in anguish while his buddies patted his back.

"I-I'm sorry-" The worker immediately reprimanded himself but Ricky shook his head, stopping him there.

"Aye, you didn't do anything wrong so don't apologize, to no one." Ricky raised his mug to him, receiving a nod from the disparaging worker.

"Y'know what, aye bartender, they drink for free, put it on my tab." Ricky side-eyed the bartender who immediately nodded, the workers all surprised at this sudden announcement.

"Oh Slick, you don't have to-" Herold immediately held his hat tightly, trying to stop Ricky but he shrugged.

"You guys got enough on your plate and it's cause of guys like you that I'm where I am, so just take the beer and bar snacks." Ricky honestly said, knowing that mobsters all profited off the backs of honest hardworking schmucks.

"Least I can do." Ricky turned back to the bartender, who immediately understood and started grabbing the mugs of beer.

"Thanks, Slick, the guys really need this." Herald knew more than anyone how tight money was at this time and even the change of a few drinks was a lot to people like them.

It was awkward at first, considering the man who had forced them all to lock themselves away not long ago and caused such a disruptive turf war was now sitting in the same bar as them.

But once the alcohol began to flow, even the worst of enemies started to lighten up, as the atmosphere shifted into a bumbling buzz of cheerfulness.

At first, it was just James and Bucky around Ricky, but as if he had some sort of gravitational pull, the more he talked and laughed, the more it drew in the eyes, ears, and eventually the bodies of the other workers. 

Before long, Ricky found himself surrounded at the bar, the center of attention.

"So this horse walks into a bar and the bartender asks 'why the long face?' and the horse replies 'because I'm an alcoholic and it's destroying my family'" Ricky laughed through the joke and at this point, these drunken workers would laugh at anything.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Everyone bellowed out an entire avalanche of laughter, breaking down in tears as Bucky, almost sh*t faced, slammed his face on the table.

"Alright, alright!" Ricky suddenly stood up, holding up his hands while hopping onto the bar counter and grabbing the beer nozzle.

"WHO WANTS TO SEE ME DRINK THIS BAR DRY!" Ricky yelled, hearing the cheers of the workers before placing his mouth under the beer nozzle and turning it on.

GULP

"CHUG!"

GULP

"CHUG!"

GULP

"CHUG!"

GULP

Ricky had an incredibly high tolerance compared to these average joes, not even feeling buzzed by the handful of beers he downed.

 So as he drained the barrels of this german luger dry, the bartender was left scrambling to replace the booze until Ricky manifest destined his words.

BURP

"FCK YEAH, FCK YEAH!" Ricky, after completely drinking the beer behind the counter, celebrated this fact while the other workers cheered.

"BARTENDER, MORE BEER!" Ricky yelled, Alexander wobbling from the side while holding up his paw.

"HAZZAY!" Alexander bellowed, his presence not even shocking the others as they all were just going with the flow at this point.

"I-I'm sorry Slick, but you've cleaned us out-"

"THEN ON TO THE NEXT, LET US WINE AND DINE ON MY DIME!" Ricky, really feeling the effects of that German luger, was starting to talk in a medieval sort of way that he always did whenever he drank this type of alcohol.

Clearing out of the bar and wobbling after Ricky, the blue-collar workers along with Bucky all started to follow in the impromptu beer crawl.

It was around only two dozen at first, Ricky leading the pack of incredibly drunk men as they drifted over to the nearest bar until they were soon met with the same scene.

Factory workers all down on their luck and simply trying to find any sort of escape were met with the arrival of Ricky.

Soon, that two dozen grew as Ricky's boisterous proclamation of paying for the bar tab continued onto this bar, then the next.

It was then that the bar crawl was truly born. 

At first, it was a few hesitant workers, glancing at each other before joining in, lured by the promise of free beer and the opportunity to forget, even if just for a few hours, the disappointing reality that weighed on their shoulders. 

As Ricky's laughter grew louder and his charm grew stronger, more and more followed his lead, each one gravitating toward him like moths to a flame.

The atmosphere shifted as more bodies crowded around the bar, the clink of bottles and the murmur of conversation filling the air. 

It was no longer just a casual drink among friends; it was a way out, an escape, a rebellion against the world outside. 

Ricky, always the life of the party, led the charge, his words slurring with each drink, the laughter flowing as easily as the alcohol.

As the night wore on, the workers lost their inhibitions, one by one and they stopped caring about the looming debts, the hours of labor, the uncertainty of their futures. 

It was a blur of half-formed jokes, spilled drinks, and reckless abandon while Ricky had become this weird sort of symbol of defiance, not just in the power he wielded but in his ability to push aside everything that weighed them down, if only for a fleeting moment.

The bar crawl turned into something much more than a night of drinking; it was a fleeting reprieve, a chance for these hard working men to feel alive again without having to worry about anything, if only for a few hours. 

And Ricky, already lost in his own drunken haze, slowly reveled in that fact as it was starting to get to his knightly head, with every drink inducing a reckless decision.

Then, after being at what seemed like the hundredth bar, the entire place was crowded as the workers stretched all the way onto the streets.

Ricky had lost count of how many people's tab he was paying for but at this point, he was so rich that he just didn't care.

What was the point of having fck you money if you never say fck you?

That was his drunken motto that he used to convince himself of anything that might bring him anxiety.

"EVERYONE, HEED MY WORDS FOR THOU MUST SPEAK!" Ricky roared, holding up his mug of beer as a drunken Bucky sort of wobbled in from the side, almost entirely sh*t faced.

"HEED THEM!" Alexander yelled, his voice booming as he encouraged Ricky's words, though his gaze was fixed on the wall, more specifically, a picture on the wall as the drunken hamster was more gone than anyone else in the room

The workers, their spirits battered by the news of the mill closing, couldn't help but be swept up in the energy of the bar crawl. 

What started as a casual distraction had quickly grown into something near legendary, a feat of indulgence funded by Ricky's endless flow of cash. 

His generosity seemingly felt as if it stretched across the entire laid off workforce, and in return, they clung to him with admiration and gratitude, following his lead as he led them through each round of drinks.

Ricky, holding up a massive jug of beer with a grin plastered on his face, was the center of their attention. 

His laugh echoed through the room, infectious and full of life and Bucky, ever the responsible one, even his drunken state, was trying his best to pull Ricky down from his self-appointed pedestal, but it was no use.

Ricky was too far gone, too caught up in the chaos to be reined in as the workers looked on, their focus unwavering, as Ricky continued to hold court, an unlikely king in the midst of their collective misery.

"I HAVE RECEIVED MANY COMPLAINTS AS YOUR PATRON, ABOUT HOW YOUR WORK IS BEING DULLED BY GREED AND BY THOSE SCUMMY PROFITEERS WHO THINK OF THEMSELVES AS LORDY!" Ricky's words were weird, medieval almost, but the men were all too drunk to care as they all gathered around him while nodding their heads.

"AND YOU MUST KNOW OF ME, RICKY LUCIANO, SON OF LUCKY LUCIANO!" Ricky proclaimed, his weird words immediately making Bucky's stomach feel queasy.

"Ricky get down-"

"IT IS BECAUSE OF THESE CREDENTIALS, THESE TITLES, AND THE WEALTH OF MY NAME THAT I PROCLAIM TO YOU NOT AS YOUR PATRON, BUT YOUR SAVIOR!" Ricky was a couple weeks sober on reckless decisions, but right here and now, he was about to relapse.

"RICK-" Bucky immediately yelled, knowing that a responsible friend would stop what he was about to do even if he actually wanted him to say it.

But even if he wanted Ricky to buy the mill, to have his next words hopefully confirm, he was the type of friend to put others interests over his which is why he was trying to pull Ricky off the counter.

It was just that his strength paled in comparison to Ricky who didn't even notice the tugging of his clothes.

"I SHALL BUY THE STEEL MILL UNDER LUCKY INCORPORATED BUT NOT ONLY THAT, VOW SOMETHING TO THE DEPTHS OF MY CORE!" Ricky held his heart, completely unaware of what reason and common sense was at this moment, since all he cared about was hearing the roar of applause, just for him, only for him.

"I VOW TO EMPLOY 50,000 WORKERS!" Ricky roared, his voice booming through the haze of drunken laughter and the heavy scent of beer. 

His words were nothing more than a blur of wild ambition and chaotic confidence, but in that moment, they felt like a declaration from a man who believed he could conquer the world. 

His ravings, filled with this sort of raw energy, ignited a fire in the hearts of the workers around him.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, their spirits lifted by the absurdity of it all as in that dimly lit bar, surrounded by the remnants of their shattered reality, they clung to the possibility that someone, anyone, could offer them a lifeline, they now unknowingly clung to Ricky.

"RICKY!"

"RICKY!"

"RICKY!"

Ricky's face was alight with drunken excitement, his arms spread wide as if he were embracing the mass congregation of drunken men who were chanting his name with fervor. 

The cheers swirled around him, echoing off the bar's walls, a cacophony of admiration fueled by his wild proclamations. 

Each cheer felt like a personal triumph to Ricky, as though he was a king being crowned by the very people he had helped to lift, however fleetingly.

Bucky, on the other hand, was pale, his brow furrowed in disbelief as he watched the madness unfold before him. 

James and his father stood frozen to the side, their faces a mix of shock and confusion, not sure whether to laugh or intervene.

But then, amidst the madness, Alexander, grinning like a proud beast, raised his mighty paw into the air, joining the celebration with a roar that almost drowned out the cheers. 

But it was the actions of that wild night that would go on to become legendary. 

What started as an absurdly drunken vow in a run-down bar would spawn a festival in New York that commemorated not only the outrageous decree but the extraordinary beer crawl that had led to it. 

Dubbed 'Beer Fest,' it would become a yearly tradition, celebrating the moment, the camaraderie, and the unpredictable power of Ricky Luciano, a man who, in his drunken folly, had brought the impossible to life.

"HAZZAY!"


Chương 150: Chapter 145: Three, The Lucky Number

"HAZZAY!"

BAM

It was then that Ricky's memory cut out, darkness consuming his vision as a void crept into his consciousness, pulling him into a realm of eldritch horror. 

In his haze, as if his eyes were barely open, he glimpsed the void stretching endlessly before him, an oppressive expanse of nothingness.

As he gazed around, his focus was drawn downward to the cracked earth beneath his feet. 

The cracks widened, revealing an abyss that seemed to pull him in, slipping through as if gravity itself had betrayed him. 

Yet, this was no endless fall, but instead it was a descent into a crevasse that exposed the underbelly of this twisted realm.

Looking closer, the seemingly depthless void was filled with stones, each an obsidian black, emanating a foreboding presence. 

They crowded the underlevels, as though the realm was built upon this unsettling foundation of these mere pebbles.

Whispers shrouded this sea of stones, each a malformation of different horrors in the form of words and among them, one distinct pebble held the whisper of Ricky's name as he seemingly appeared inside this mere stone.

The murmurs around his pebble began to intensify, echoing louder and louder, vibrating the small stone with a haunting resonance. 

They were his tales, his whispers, spoken from the mouths of others as he finally was able to open his eyes to this sort of translucent cage.

Ricky felt an irresistible pull, drawing him closer as his fingers extended toward the jagged edges of his makeshift prison.

Then, something unprecedented occurred as the moment his fingertip graced the translucent surface, a tiny crack formed, disrupting the eerie stillness of the void. 

The crack spread slowly, a web of fractures expanding outward, giving way to the whispers that filled with his name.

'Ricky~'

GASP

Ricky gasped, his eyes shooting open as a sense of paralysis gripped him, his entire body jolting upright. 

The dream had been so vivid, so suffocating, that it felt as though he had been trapped under the weight of a sleep paralysis demon. 

Instinctively, he slicked his hand through his silky black hair before a hand suddenly landed on his chest. 

"Ricky?" Alina's worried voice broke through the haze as she rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself fully. 

Ricky glanced down, realizing that not only was he completely naked next to Alina, but his fingers were unconsciously gripping her meaty flesh of a tit.

"Huh?" Ricky wondered out loud, looking around while rubbing his forehead as if it would help the memoires trickle into his mind.

After his wild proclamation, Ricky had gotten so utterly drunk that he somehow ended up breaking into the zoo, declaring his intention to ride a lion.

"I WANNA FLY ON THE LION~" Ricky drunkenly shouted, climbing the beast's enclosure as Bucky, James, and Herold all tried to pull him back.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS GUY MADE OF, F*CKING STEEL!?" Herold yelled, a little unbelieving at how with three pulling him backwards, they were getting dragged forwards.

"C'MERE KITTY, C'MERE~" Ricky slurred, his drunken aura flaring wildly, casting a sovereign presence that suddenly enveloped the growling lion. 

Animals, especially lions, are creatures driven by instinct, their pride towering over most emotions. 

Yet, it was this very pride that made the lion's eyes widen in recognition of the being before it, a predator cloaked in a swirling green aura.

The lion, an apex predator, began to tremble, its instincts overridden by an inexplicable sense of not pride, but self-preservation. 

Slowly, it backed away, its massive frame quivering as it scratched futilely at the door of its enclosure, seeking an escape as the three behind Ricky were stunned, their eyes widening as they watched the king of beasts retreat,

"KITTY-....KITTY?" Ricky continued to mutter that word until he realized something more precedent than riding a lion blooming within him.

"I wanna f*ck."

Then, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, Ricky casually opened a portal and vanished, leaving the three of them stranded in the closed zoo and as the faint shimmer of the portal faded, leaving behind only the bewildered stares of his companions.

A green portal materialized in Alina's bedroom, the moonlight accentuating her supple curves as she stirred, her head turning slowly toward the sudden illumination.

"R-Ricky?" Alina whispered longingly, her voice soft and filled with anticipation almost hoping it was him.

Then her tired eyes opened to a sight that made her cheeks flushed as her gaze met Ricky's, who stood in the portal's glow, his eyes locked on her as he reached for his belt.

Unbuckling it deliberately, Ricky took slow, measured steps toward Alina, each movement making her heart race faster, her face deepening in color.

With each step, his shadow that he casted seemed to extend further until his body loomed over hers completely.

Then, as the night unfolded, he devoured her thoroughly throughout the night, entire hours of filling Alina with his desire until he finally passed out.

"Oh yeah, that happened." Ricky wiped his eyes, pulling Alina closer as she smiled while he caressed her hair.

"A-Are you okay?" Alina asked, looking up with that familiar gaze of longing as he actually took a second to think about it.

"I'm fine, I just think I had a weird nightmare," Ricky muttered, pulling Alina close and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Hey, do you wanna get brunch or something-"

"Where the f*ck is he!" Lucky's roar echoed through the house, sending a chill down Ricky's spine as his entire body went stiff as he looked down at Alina, who was chuckling softly.

"Rain check?" Alina asked, watching him nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"If I don't die first."

10 minutes later,

"Thank you, honey," Lucky smiled at Sophie, nodding his head to her as he pinched Moxie's stubborn cheek before turning his gaze to Ricky.

"50,000."

Those were the only words Lucky said to him when Ricky appeared in his line of sight.

"Pops, listen I-"

"Seventy-five cents an hour, six dollars a day, one hundred and fifty a month, eighteen hundred a year, and that's all repeated, fifty thousand times," Lucky's voice rose with each number he uttered, his tone sharp and calculated all while Ricky rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the each number press against his shoulders.

Lucky tried to maintain his smile, keeping his composure in front of Moxie and Sophie, who were watching him closely. 

Despite his outward calm, his hand trembled with fury as he glared at Ricky, barely containing the storm brewing inside.

"So like-"

"That's 90,000,000 dollars," Lucky said, his voice strained as he grasped his coffee cup, the weight of the staggering figure making him cough. 

"You promised to shell out 90 million." Lucky felt as if he was on the brink of an aneurysm just thinking about that figure, struggling to keep his composure and resist the urge to hurl his coffee cup at Ricky's face.

"Do you understand how much product you'd have to churn out to support that?" Lucky asked, his voice full of genuine frustration, actually asking if Ricky even knew how many products he would need to sell to break even, let alone make a profit.

"Your company has no perceived value, no brand recognition, no profit margin, and seven patents for products that only the middle class and above can enjoy," Lucky continued, his voice sharp, as he stared Ricky down, each word sinking in like a heavy blow.

"So when I saw this factory, I thought maybe 10,000, but 50,000-"

"Listen pops-"

"Oh no, this is your problem, I just came here to tell you that you're a dumbass." Lucky stood up, adjusting his suit and pinching Moxie's cheek again as the infant slapped him away, making his grandpa chuckle.

"And if you're looking for a loan, the interest is 5%-"

"FIVE PERCENT!" Ricky stood up, thinking he'd get at least a little leeway as Lucky raised his gaze at him.

"It's time you fix your slip ups on your own, starting now." Lucky turned away, giving some money to Sophia while walking out of the house.

"And this better not mess with the family, I'll see you at dinner."

BAM

Lucky slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing through the house like a gunshot all while Ricky Ricky sat there before he exhaled deeply.

"Well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions." Ricky sighed, reaching over towards the cup of black coffee and drinking it.

"We meet again, you f*cking slut."

Meanwhile In An Undisclosed Location,

Raven stood outside the house where Irene was living, her eyes softening as they fell to the small bulge in her stomach. 

The changes were recent, but they were becoming more apparent with each passing day. 

Her hand gently rested on her belly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a warm smile spread across her face. 

It was a quiet, almost surreal moment for Raven but for some weird reason, one of unexpected tenderness. 

Despite everything, all of the hardships and pain, this new life growing inside her brought a sense of calm that she hadn't felt in a long time.

She had betrayed Irene, and part of her expected to feel a deep sense of despair, a gnawing guilt that would never fade. 

But as she gently caressed her stomach, her mind wandered to the family she was about to build with a man who loved her.

Although she was a hardened woman, someone who wouldn't blink when putting a bullet in your head, she was still that same person who longed for stability, for a place to finally call home.

She had spent so much of her life running, moving from one situation to the next, that the idea of settling down had always seemed impossible. 

But now, it was a reality she could almost touch as she had always pushed away the thought of staying in one place, fearing it would make her vulnerable. 

But now, standing in front of Irene's house, a quiet sense of peace washed over her. 

For the first time in a long while, Raven allowed herself to imagine a future where she didn't have to keep running.

It was selfish but for once, Raven wanted to care about her own happiness and she wasn't going to let anyone let her feel bad about it.

Raven pressed her hand against the front door, her eyes closing as she took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage she needed to end things with Irene.

"Irene, I know you-"

The words Raven had meant to say, the ones she knew Irene had already seen, caught in her throat as her eyes widened in horror, her legs giving way beneath her as she crumpled to her knees at the doorway.

And there, hanging from the ceiling, was Irene's cold, lifeless body, strung up to the ceiling with a rope tangled around her broken neck. 

Raven's entire body trembled, paralyzed by the sight before her, as if the very air had turned to ice. 

Her gaze slowly drifted downward to a letter, almost instinctively, as if the universe knew she would shatter at that very spot. 

Her fingers shook uncontrollably, fumbling for the letter, each attempt causing it to slip from her grasp and finally, with a breathless, strained effort, she managed to open it.

Her eyes hollowed as they scanned the words as the world seemed to close in on her as the letter slipped from her fingers. 

Her head hung low, as if she too could no longer bear the weight of it all, a mirror image of Irene's final, silent posture. 

The words on the paper were few, but they were enough to etch an unrelenting pain into her soul. 

Two words, devoid of anything that could soothe her, lingered in the air, heavier than the silence:

Why him?

Irene could see the shifting possibilities of the future, a gift that had once been her strength. 

But every time Ricky appeared, the visions blurred, grayed out, fading away into uncertainty. 

It was as though the very threads of fate themselves recoiled from him, and with every passing moment, her power dwindled, slipping through her fingers like water.

But it was when she looked at Raven's future that Irene truly felt her world crack. 

It wasn't her future with Irene that lay before her eyes, but a future where Raven was smiling, radiant with a joy she had never seen, a joy given to her by him. 

The man who had stolen everything, the man who now held the heart Irene had fought so desperately for.

Irene's breath caught in her throat as she watched, helpless and shaken, seeing Raven's love, her heart, directed entirely at him, not at her. 

It tore through her, the sight of her love, her love, swelling with such affection for a man she could never be.

That ache in her chest, it just intensified with each vision, morphing into a cruel parade of futures where Raven's love for her evaporated with each passing second. 

In every single one, Raven was slipping away, drifting further from her grasp and into the arms of another, showing Irene that her affection had now only become a distant memory. 

And when Irene desperately searched for even a flicker of hope, a single thread of possibility where Raven remained by her side, it was clear: in every future where Raven stayed, she had to surrender herself to him.

The only way to keep Raven at her side was to give herself, her body, to this man and the sight of it crushed her. 

She felt it, in every vision, in every future, each one more agonizing than the last. 

And the worst part was she could do nothing. 

The love of her life had made her choice, and it wasn't her, Raven would never be hers again.

And in that final, bitter moment, Irene's heart shattered. 

Shattered into something else, that love she'd held so fiercely for Raven twisted into something darker, something hateful. 

A seething anger swelled in her chest, directed not just at Raven, but at the man who had taken everything. 

She wanted to hurt Raven, to make her feel the same way, share in this aching pit that had formed in her heart, and the thought, the thought of making her pay for brokering her mind into questions.

Why did Irene have to be the only one to feel broken?

Why did she have to feel this pain?

Those thoughts swirled in Irene's mind, consuming her, feeding a dark obsession she couldn't shake. 

She didn't want Raven to just move on, to forget her, to slip into a life with him as if their love had never existed. 

Irene's chest tightened at the thought of Raven's happiness, of her smiling without remembering the pain she had caused, knowing only one thing after that.

It couldn't end like this.

Irene wanted more than just closure; she wanted to make Raven feel the weight of her betrayal.

She wanted to break her, to force Raven to live with the guilt, the pain, the reminder of what she had thrown away. 

She didn't just want Raven to feel regret; she wanted her to suffer for it, to understand, deep in her soul, that it was her fault, her fault for leaving, for choosing him.

Every passing second that Raven lived in peace, in love, was a second that twisted the knife deeper in Irene's chest. 

She needed to show Raven the depths of her pain, to make sure that no matter how far she ran, no matter how much she tried to forget, the memory of Irene would haunt her, linger in her every step. 

She wanted to carve her name into Raven's soul, to burn that love into her mind so deeply that it would never fade, even if she wanted it to.

The faint smell of decay lingered in the air, but the room felt suffocated by it, settling in the grim reality before her. 

Raven sat motionless on the floor, her body numb, her soul aching but her mind locked in a fog of emptiness. 

She didn't cry, didn't scream but merely stared ahead, as though the world around her had ceased to exist, leaving her in this cold, dark vacuum. 

Irene had achieved her final desire as her suicide crushed Raven, in all possible ways, but there was no release, no outlet for the grief that gnawed at her insides. 

Raven just sort of sat there, eyes hollowed and cast down at the hardwood floor beneath her crushed soul.

In a haze, she found herself standing on unfamiliar ground, her feet carrying her without purpose. 

It felt like she was moving through the motions of life without actually living before drifting in front of a telephone booth.

Her hands fumbled for a moment before she found herself in front of a payphone, the cold metal casing gleaming faintly under the dim streetlights. 

Her fingers, trembling, searched for the only number she could remember, the one person who had always been there for her, the one she could lean on in times like this.

"You better be so fcking important if I'm paying these overseas fees-" Ricky spat, his voice thick with frustration as he was drowning in his own mess, surrounded by the madness of Lucky Incorporated, everyone scrambling to fix the sht show their owner had just created.

"Tiger, can you come get me?" Raven whispered into the phone, her voice barely audible as her hand trembled, gripping the device so tightly her knuckles turned white. 

"In a f*cking heartbeat." Ricky stood up, the frantic buzz of voices around him fading into indistinct murmurs as he bolted for the door, his focus entirely on Raven.

"WAIT SLICK, WE-and he's gone." Chores started, but the words were cut off as Ricky vanished in a flash, teleporting away before he could finish.

Raven sat in the phone booth, her body curled into a tight ball, motionless as the sun slowly sank lower, casting long shadows as the world around her seemed to fade into a blur. 

BAM

HUFF

HUFF

HUFF

Dawn arrived far too quickly, its light casting a cold glow as Raven's hollow eyes, empty and devoid of emotion for what felt like hours, slowly drifted upward to the intrusion.

Reflecting in those hollow eyes was Ricky, ripping off the door to the phone booth as the warmth of the setting sun illuminated completely around him.

Ricky was a complete mess, having discovered she was in Britain, only to teleport to Transylvania, then ride Chastelofld with the wind howling behind him as he pushed for speed.

Yet, none of that mattered, his disheveled state, his clothes ripped and battered, were all forgotten as he reached her. 

Without a second thought, he pulled Raven into his arms, holding her tight, as if the act itself could undo the torment she had endured.

"I'm here." Ricky's voice was steady, trying to say everything when he saw her but he didn't know what else to say, but the simple declaration was enough. 

Raven simply crumbled into his arms, her body shaking as the hollow dam holding back her sorrow finally broke. 

She cried, her sobs muffled against his chest, each tear carrying the weight of all she had kept buried inside. 

Ricky held her, offering nothing but his presence, his steady warmth, as the storm of her emotions raged within her.

All the pain and sorrow poured into Ricky, her emotions unraveling with each sob until, eventually, she calmed as the night slowly settled in.

"You ready to come home?" Ricky caressed her hair, raising her sniffing face, his thumb gently wiping away the tear as she slowly bobbed her head.

Sniff

"Yeah," Raven whispered, her voice barely audible as she rested her head on his chest. 

The soft hum of a swirling green portal filled the air, its edges shimmering with an eerie glow and without a word, Ricky gently shifted, guiding them both toward the opening,

"Thank you, for coming for me," Raven whispered, her voice filled with a quiet gratitude. 

Ricky, however, flashed a sleazy smile, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he delivered a cheesy line that would undoubtedly stay with Raven forever.

"Oh baby, I'll always come running for you."

1 week later,

"C'mon Gino, are you f*cking kidding me-"

"You said, on November 3rd, 1910, a Tuesday, mind you, that if you ever opened a shop, I'd get a discount," Gino said, busting out an old promise as if it were a recipe and presenting it to the man before him.

Recounting the year, month, and day with emphasis as the man standing across from him let out a heavy sigh.

"Your word is your body Rico, your bond!" Gino gestured with his hands, seeing Rico scrunch his eyebrows before scoffing.

"I don't even get this kind of shamelessness from the Jews up in Manhattan, y'know that?" Rico muttered, shaking his head. 

Gino, however, just grinned, his bright smile widening as he looked at the receipt with his newly earned twenty percent discount.

"Aye, man's gotta eat, but when he does, it's better to do it cheap." Gino chuckled, grabbing his bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich before walking out of the store.

Walking out of the store, he plopped down on a nearby table while pulling out a list that had some names crossed out on it with one left unchecked.

"Excuse me, are you Gino Giovanni?" Jake asked, his voice cutting through the moment just as the man was about to take another bite of his sandwich.

"Depends on who's asking," Gino said, squinting as he set the sandwich down and Jake couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm Slick's friend and Meyer's little brother-"

"Jakey?!" Gino laughed, standing up and walking over to him.

"Kiddo, I haven't seen you since you were barely outta diapers!" Gino chuckled, slapping Jake on the back before pulling him into a tight man hug.

"Come on, sit, sit!" Gino laughed heartily, gesturing to the seat across from his sandwich as he grabbed it.

 "So, what can I do for you, kiddo?" Gino asked, leaning back in his chair with a casual grin, clearly not having left New York yet.

Instead of firing Gino or sending him back, Ricky and Lucky decided to keep him on retainer, paying him hourly. 

The paperwork Lucky needed sorted was quickly handled, but Ricky still had use for Gino. 

He wasn't joking, Ricky had meant what he said about making the mob bosses' families suffer, and he wasn't about to let them run their operations in his city. 

That's why he'd hired Gino to draft the necessary papers to buy out their legal fronts and properties.

But it was the abstract way in which he asked Gino to handle it which made him raise his eyebrows.

Gino had been meticulously outlining the proposals for each of the widowed families, offering them precise instructions before falling back.

His task was nearly complete, with only one name left to check off his list but before wrapping it all up, he decided to take a quick sandwich break, savoring the brief pause before diving into the final step.

"Actually, Gino, if it wouldn't bother you, I wanted to shadow you for the negotiations with the families," Jake said, already sensing Ricky's approval as Gino raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised.

Actually, Jake had been thinking about what he wanted to do for a long time after Barko's words, but it wasn't anyone in their group that had inspired him. 

It was Marshall. 

The way he took control of the courtroom and commanded respect was something Jake had always admired. 

It was a kind of power Jake had always craved for his own life, and it deeply resonated with him which is why he had finally decided to pursue a career as a lawyer.

"Oh, well that's no trouble at all." Gino smiled, taking a bite of his sandwich as Jake reached into his coat pocket.

"Also, Slick told me to give this to you, saying you'd understand." Jake clarified, handing over the envelope and Gino, still munching on his sandwich, took it with a raised brow.

Opening the envelope, Gino tilted his head, eyes scanning the contents before he froze mid-chew. 

A wide grin spread across his face as he gulped, then immediately burst out laughing, his voice hollering at the contents.

"Jesus, the kid's as wicked as Lucky." Gino chuckled, puting the paper back into the envelope, wiping his face without even finishing his sandwich.

"What are you-

"Come on, we'll eat on the go." Gino said abruptly, snatching up his sandwich and striding towards the side and Jake, still processing everything, stood frozen for a second.

"Hurry up, time is money and we never waste money!" Gino barked at him, causing him to flinch and Jake scrambled to catch up, hurrying behind Gino as he marched toward his car.

"Rule number one of being a good lawyer: your client's desire is always the right one," Gino lectured, taking the broken bird under his wing and Jake couldn't help but think he should be taking notes.

"Just like when you're running with the gang, the family's always right, but in the business of law, you look after your client," Gino waved his finger at Jake, imparting the lesson as the door slammed shut behind him.

"But if ya look at it that way, the law's like a gun, the family's the client, and the ones on the other side of the table are the suckers," Gino joked, his voice light as he slammed his foot on the gas, weaving through the streets.

"Has the Luciano family always been your client?" Jake asked, curiosity evident in his voice, the question lingering in the air as he glanced at Gino, only ever knowing this man by the few words spoken about him.

"Nah, unless Lucky needs something from Rochester, but I f*cking doubt it!" Gino cackled out, hitting his hand on the steering wheel before regaining himself.

"Oh don't say that Gino, I'm sure there are things happening in-" Jake let out an awkward laugh, trying to appease him only for Gino to wave his hand.

"Cut the sh*t Jakey, ain't no one in any family, or at least the former families, wanted anything from that bumhole of a place." Gino scoffed, only to let out a smile, looking forward with a toothy grin.

"I mean, that's why I moved up there anyways." Gino chuckled, Jake being utterly shocked since he knew that he had to quit, but he thought it was because of an injury.

"But I thought you left the family because of your injury?" Jake obviously asked, only beocming more confused as Gino slowly nodded his head.

"I did," Gino said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Jake, the answer seeming obvious to him but Jake, however, was still visibly confused.

"But you just-"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Gino burst into hysterical laughter as they swerved around the corner, and Jake slammed into the door, his face palling at the wild driving.

"Listen Jakey, I loved the family and I'd give my life for Lucky in a f*cking heartbeat if he asked." Gino first started, swerving around the next corner as Jake clutched his seatbelt tightly.

"But what Lucky always leaves out was what happened afterwards since after I got hurt I slipped into a hole filled to the brim with booze." Gino side-eyed Jake, watching his sacred expression slowly morph into shock.

"I just drowned myself in rum, I mean, all I ever knew was running in the streets." Gino sighed, staring aimlessly off into the road ahead since that point in his life, was his lowest.

"Then when I got shot, I just crumbled, sank into this pit and felt like my life was meaningless." Gino's voice was somber, still heartbroken to this day about what happened to him all those years ago.

Jake slowly looked forward, his words sinking in as his eyes became hollow, reflecting the weight of the situation and Gino let out a sigh, the car surprisingly coming to a stop at a red light.

"But just Lucky yanked me out of it." 

The words suddenly sparked Jake out of his thoughts, catching his gaze all while Gino shook his head, reflecting on how naive his younger self had been.

"Literally, the guy chained me to the heater until I flushed all that shit out of my system." Gino shivered, recalling that grueling time in his life.

"I mean, Lucky, he felt responsible for what happened to me, and at the time, I blamed him with all my heart." Gino patted his heart, stepping on the gas once the light turned green but Jake didn't flinch this time.

Sigh

"But growing up, being an adult, having free will, the best part about all of that is having the ability to make your own choices." Gino continued, a little reminiscent in his tone as he swerved around the next corner.

"I jumped in front of that gun and even when I finally realized that I did not, not him, not anyone else, Lucky never stopped blaming himself." Gino gripped the steering wheel, feeling sh*tty even now as he just wished his old friend would let it go like he had.

"What did you do?" Jake asked, watching Gino laugh as they came to a stop outside a residential neighborhood.

"I started living my life, living the second chance he gave me." Gino winked at Jake, stepping out of the car as Jake scrambled to follow.

"Here." Gino flicked his keys to the chauffeur, the man stumbling before managing to catch them.

Most neighborhoods, gated and closed off, will not let visitors in without a guest pass or prior approval. 

It's a system designed to keep out unwanted traffic and ensure only those with permission can enter. 

The security guards at the gates are strict, checking every ID and confirming appointments, sometimes even calling ahead to verify the purpose of the visit and if you don't have the right credentials, you're simply turned away, no questions asked.

"Hey there tutz, I'm here to see Misty Bonanno, I'm a dear friend." Gino leaned on the counter, flashing a smile at the women working at the receptionist desk who raised an eyebrow.

"I apologize, but I'll need to confirm this with Mrs. Bonanno-"

"That's fine, just tell her that Slick sent me." Gino showed his pearly whites, the receptionist nodding before he turned back to Jake.

"Will this work, and why are we here in the first place?" Jake whispered, but Gino raised a hand, nodding toward the front desk, signaling him to look.

"Yes, alright." The receptionist nodded, placing the phone down and looking up at them.

"Mrs. Bonanno confirmed your appearance. Your guest passes will be issued for the day. I hope you have a marvelous day." The receptionist smiled, and Gino smirked before she handed them two green passes.

"Thanks, doll." Gino grabbed the passes, winking at the receptionist, who rolled her eyes as he turned away.

"Follow along and just watch." Gino shoved the guest pass into Jake's chest, walking ahead with Jake following closely behind.

Walking into the residential neighborhood that practically screamed money, they arrived at a certain address and made their way up.

However, they didn't have to knock, the door already opened to reveal a dolled-up woman who scrunched her eyes in recognition.

"Hello Mrs. Bonanno-"

"Save it, if Slick sent you to cap me then get it over with." Mrs. Bonanno hissed, gazing hatefully at the men standing before her but knowing she couldn't turn them away.

However, instead of Joe's wife, the one he expected to see, Jake found himself staring at the old woman, the matriarch of the Bonanno family and Joe's mother.

"Oh no, that's not why we're here. Can we come in?" Gino asked, already pushing the door open as his smile widened.

"Yeah, make yourself at home," Mrs. Bonanno said sarcastically, scoffing as she turned her back to him.

Doors creaked open above before one look from Mrs. Bonanno forced them shut, her gaze returning to the living room.

Jake stood a little spellbound by the crystal chandelier hanging from the rafters, its facets catching the light and shimmering brilliantly. 

It wasn't until he snapped back to reality that he realized Gino had already walked forward, leaving him behind.

"Why is Lucky's dog here, carrying out his stain of a child's orders?" Mrs. Bonanno spat, her words harsh and Gino laughed, though his eyes remained cold.

"Those are some mean words. It's a good thing I know you don't mean them," Gino said, his voice cold as he raised his gaze as the old woman, filled with hatred, turned away without a word.

"And besides, I came here on business." Gino lifted his briefcase into view, placing it on the table before pulling out the folder he'd handed earlier.

"My client, Ricky Luciano, would like to make a formal offer for all your 'business holdings.'" Gino's words surprised both Jake and Mrs. Bonanno, before they quickly realized what he was after.

Although the Luciano family had already devoured the territories of the others, that was mostly in the underbelly, where the dirty work happened. 

On the surface, where the legal buildings and legitimate businesses were held, the territories still belonged to the heads of the old families.

Over the past week, Gino had been delivering the same offer to the other former family heads, and Mrs. Bonanno just happened to be the last one.

However, both Jake and even Mrs. Bonanno thought he was going to simply take it away and instead, they were met with the offer currently being placed right in front of her.

"The offer is $350,000 for a complete buyout of all your legal holdings." Gino slid the piece of paper across the table, while Mrs. Bonanno crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"I heard you were going around offering the same to the others but to think it was true." Mrs. Bonanno curiously raised an eyebrow, not denying the idea of being bought out but not totally shackled to it.

"But this is it?"

Mrs. Bonanno waved the piece of paper, considering that Joe's holdings ranged from $250,000 to $300,000, however, she knew a proper buyout should be closer to $400,000.

"Later today, there will be a meeting held with the others, and Ricky Luciano will be there personally to negotiate further." Gino instructed, his words making Mrs. Bonanno feel uncomfortable as she immediately went to reject.

"Well I-"

"I highly advise you to attend." Gino's words seemed casual, but his voice was cold as Mrs. Bonanno scrunched her brows in suspicion.

"Fine."

"Good, I'll see you there." Gino then stood up, flicking his head to the side as Jake followed him out.

"What was that?" Jake asked, unable to really get a grip on what was happening.

"Part of being a lawyer, pretty boring, right?" Gino laughed, glancing at Jake, who had expected more excitement, more spin and dance.

But being a lawyer was sometimes like a lukewarm beer and sometimes it could really hit the spot, but most of the time, it was just a little dull and unfulfilling.

"Listen, I get this whole thing about lawyers and the trials, but that's only a smidge of what we actually do." Gino lectured, walking out of the house as fast as he walked into it.

"Being a lawyer is mostly going through briefings, studying, delivering proposals, and so on, and so forth." Gino chuckled, side-eyeing the clearly disappointed Jake, brooding at the side.

"But let me guess, when you were in D.C., you thought being a lawyer was always like that?" Gino's question made Jake blush in embarrassment as he laughed and slapped him on the back.

"Oh come on, don't be embarrassed!" Gino cackled, watching him visibly turn away since that stuff only happened once in a blue moon.

"That was history, Ricky actually kicking the government's ass in their own house. Of course, it would make anyone stand on the edge of their seat." Gino didn't reprimand it but completely understood, wanting to see it for himself if he wasn't stuck here doing paperwork.

"I mean, the kid really knows how to keep you drawn in." Gino got into the car, with Jake quickly following.

"Yeah." Jake chuckled sheepishly, gulping and rubbing the back of his neck, unable to shake the feeling of being pulled in after all of that.

"So what now?"

"What now? Of course we get a hot dog and wait!"

4 hot dogs later,

"Still the best hot dogs in New York~" Gino patted his stomach, burping as he ate three hotdogs while Jake barely finished his first.

 "Hey Gino, can I ask you something?" Jake suddenly asked, sitting next to Gino who was unbuckling his belt.

"Shoot."

"You said earlier that you left for Rochester, but why did you leave after Lucky went so far for you?" Jake asked, relating heavily to him as Gino patted his thighs in a drumbeat, then looked up at the sky.

"Cause when Lucky pulled me out of my rut, it wasn't because he needed me, it was because I was his friend." Gino easily said, unashamed of his past anymore and wearing it as a symbol of pride that was his growth into the man currently sitting before him.

"I think the hardest part, the thing that took the longest time to really get a handle on, was that after I got hurt, Lucky just didn't need me anymore." Gino voiced out his truth, his words making Jake flinch as he slowly ducked his head.

"Unlike now, it wasn't all that administration sh*t like the family is now, since it's gotten so big. Back then, we were fighting every day just to keep up as a small gang." Gino revealed, having gotten hurt in a time where everything was moving so fast, and yet, he was barely even walking.

"But when I went down, I just couldn't run anymore, I couldn't keep up." Gino said, his hand slowly brushing against his wounds before looking at him.

Sigh

"And don't get me wrong, Lucky tried everything to get me back involved and made up sh*t to get me occupied." Gino nudged Jake, seeing him all quiet before his smile slowly faded and he decided to be truthful with the kid, with the younger him.

"But-.....but I knew it was meaningless." Gino words made Jake slowly lift his head up, trying to stop the tears falling from his eyes since this was the reality.

Ricky didn't need him anymore, they had grown apart.

"Gosh Jakey, you should've seen Lucky back then cause he was nothing like he is now." Gino rubbed Jake's hair, pushing him back down so that no one could see him cry.

"The guy was the most inspiring and ruthless guy I knew. Literally fought off four guys, all armed with knives and knuckles, with his bare fists." Gino exaggerated his motions, gripping his fist while emphasizing every word to give it that flare.

"But the thing that made me feel useless was when he was doing all of that and looking back at me." Gino slowly lowered his fist, knowing that no matter how hard Lucky tried to keep him tethered to his side, there came a point when he realized that all he was doing was dragging him down.

"God, he just kept running so far ahead and I was walking."

"..."

"I think that's when I really understood this second chance he gave me." Gino looked down at his chest, remaining silent for a long time.

"For the longest time I was Gino 'Fists' Toerrili but after the injury, I was just Gino." Gino closed his eyes, having his identity essentially stolen from him.

"The hardest part about starting over isn't taking the step forward, that's easy." Gino then opened his eyes, looking up at the clear blue sky with a sad smile.

"For me, it was finding out who Gino was, finding out who I was without the gang." Gino then turned his gaze back to Jake, smiling warmly at the kid who reminded him a little too much of himself.

"Weirdly enough, the thing that really helped me find out who I was, it was a law book." Gino turned to Jake, who was silent at the side, and gave him a toothy smile.

"I got invested, and one day, I asked Lucky about it, and he invested heavily into my education." Gino continued, narrating his life but making it short and sweet rather than dragging it out.

"I got my degree, passed the bar, and met my wife." Gino chuckled, looking down at the golden wedding band adorning his finger and holding it up proudly.

"That's who Gino is and that's how I found myself." Gino patted his shoulder and handed Jake a card.

"Listen, Ricky told me about your situation, and I'm being completely honest with you, I think you've got potential." Gino patted his shoulder, nestling the card in between his fingers as Jake slowly looked at it.

"Putting aside the fact of how similar we are, Lanky told me about you, and I've seen how you managed the clubs." Gino shook him slightly, really trying to shake any sort of response out as he continued.

"I think you could be a great lawyer." Gino then pushed Jake's fingers to wrap around the card, standing up as a car pulled up from the side.

"I'm looking to expand up in Rochester and I need another Paralegal." Gino turned back to Jake, walking while nodding his head.

"It won't pay much, but being around the firm will do you wonders while you're in college, if you decide to pursue an education." Gino gave Jake a toothy smile, seeing too much of himself in Jake to let it simmer.

Honestly, back then, Gino wished he had someone who had gone through all the stuff he did to help guide him. 

It was a sort of healing for his past, to help Jake, or at least reach out a hand to show that he wasn't alone, and to close that part of his life without any regrets.

"I'm leaving soon 'cause I gotta get back, so if you have this handy, give me a ring." Gino then turned to Ricky, getting out of the car.

"Gino!" Ricky shouted with an enthusiastic smile, spreading out his arms as Gino hugged him and patted his back.

"Aye, thanks for handling all this paperwork, I mean it, you're a lifesaver." Ricky patted his chest, laughing since he had been swamped, and Gino handling this was such a relief.

"It ain't nothing, don't worry about it." Gino waved him off, laughing along with the bubbling Ricky.

"They in there?" Ricky asked, pointing forward towards the meeting location as Gino nodded with a smile.

"All except the Profaci family, like you asked." Gino tapped his nose, knowing full well why they were left out but respecting Ricky's decision to cap Profaci himself.

"Good, good." Ricky patted his shoulder, noticing Jake staring blankly at the side.

Snap

"Snap out of it, the job ain't over yet." Ricky laughed, snapping his fingers in front of Jake's gaze as he flinched.

"More like a slaughter." Gino chuckled behind, watching Ricky yank Jake off his feet and sling his arm around him, pulling him towards the meeting room as he slowly shook his head and followed.

There was nothing of significance in this place, and Jake had never even been here before, but right next to that office was a bar. 

The same bar where Abraham had been hanging around, near the back alley where Ricky had found himself after Eddy's suicide. 

It had been one of his lowest points in New York, and he wanted to completely erase that memory, to make this place have more meaning.

So, when Ricky walked into the office and toward a particular room, he didn't hesitate in the least. He walked forward with a confident stride before appearing in front of the double doors.

BAM

Kicking the door open without any regard, Ricky slowly walked into the meeting room with the most confident smile, spreading out his hands as if claiming the space.

"If it isn't the losing side, long time no see." Ricky immediately pressed on the wound which made everyone in the room sour.

Ricky's toothy smile rang out as all of the matriarchs of the families were now sitting in one room, each bearing their own lawyer.

Except for Maria, the Gambino, Lucchese, and Buffalo families were all sitting at the table, eyes fixed on the piece of paper in front of them. 

Together, their total net worth of assets that Ricky wanted to buy amounted to around 1.5 million dollars. 

His offer, however, was clearly a lowball, and the lawyers sitting across from him wore greed like a second skin, their eyes sharp and calculating, their demeanor entirely composed.

"Mr. Luciano-"

"Call me Slick, that's my pops and don't you fcking say his name in such a nonchalant way, you fcking bolden it," Ricky pointed his finger at the first lawyer who spoke, scowling at him as he coughed and choked on his words while paling.

"Then, Mr. Slick-"

"Jesus Christ, it's Slick, no Mr. and what the fuck did I say about boldening? Use your chest and stop being such a sissy." Ricky laughed, looking at the next lawyer as his gaze slowly started to loom over him.

This was one of the tactics that Lucky had taught him and although it was a more crude way of doing, it basically involved demeaning the man on the other side of the table.

It wasn't just about throwing insults or making crude remarks; it was about dismantling the other person's sense of control. 

Lucky believed that in the high-stakes world they operated in, the mind was as much a battleground as the streets.

This particular method involved calculated mockery, demeaning the man on the other side of the table in subtle yet devastating ways. 

It might begin with a seemingly innocuous comment about the opponent's appearance, posture, or mannerisms. 

But Lucky just had a knack for finding cracks in a man's façade and exploiting them ruthlessly. 

If the opponent had a nervous tick, Lucky would draw attention to it, weaving it into the conversation until it became all they could focus on. 

If they dressed too extravagantly, Lucky would reduce their choice of clothing to something gaudy and desperate, making them feel almost foreign in their own clothes.

For Ricky, this approach was both crude and effective, but he recognized the danger in wielding it improperly. 

It wasn't just about making someone feel small; it was about controlling the narrative of the exchange. 

'If you can make them feel like they're defending themselves, they're already losing.' It was one of those handful of comments that Lucky always told Ricky in his passing, trying to drill it into his head until it came of use, like it was now.

"S-Sissy?!" The lawyer was appalled at his choice of words before RIcky scoffed, slicking his hands through his hair.

"Just get on with it already, the whining is getting annoying." Ricky continued, his gaze infuriating the lawyer as the other stood up.

"It says here in the contract that you are going to provide the sum of $350,000 for the range of assets within the meeting." The other lawyer voiced his concern, adjusting his glasses and looking at Ricky with squinted eyes.

"However, all the assets under each family are being bought, so are we to assume that our clients will not be receiving the sum of $350,000 each, but all together?" The other lawyer first inquired, needing it to be clarified as Ricky simply shrugged.

"Yeah, that's right." Ricky laughed, wiping his mouth and not even bothering to hide it as the women all gasped at his shamelessness.

"That's absurd!"

"Do you think we're fools!"

The woman berated Ricky, their voice rising in frustration, but he didn't interrupt them and instead, raised his hand.

He mimicked her words, waving his hand up and down, as if it were his hand doing the talking, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Clearly mocking their complaints until they all angrily and hatfully gazed at Ricky, deciding to let their lawyers do the talking. 

"Why on earth would we agree to this!" The other lawyer couldn't help but yell, thinking this was entirely absurd for suggesting it.

"Because, do you really have any other choice?" Ricky raised his gaze, his cold smile widening as he spread out his arms, surveying the room as his voice was sharp, confident, and almost mocking, daring them to challenge him.

"You're in my playground, I'm the neighborhood bully and I can go around kicking up whoever's sandcastle I want." Ricky joked, waving his finger at them as if reprimanding a bunch of children.

"You think cause I didn't come after you immediately meant you all could live in my city, fat f*cking chance." Ricky scoffed, seeing the woman all visibly recoil at his words as they swallowed their breaths.

"I was just busy with other sh*t that I didn't have the time to lug myself out here and take all your stuff for pennies on the dollar." Ricky shamelessly shrugged, essentially telling him that one way or another, he would be getting his nut.

"But before your lawyer chimes in, recommending that you leave here and discuss later, let me give you a piece of advice." Ricky suddenly spoke right when he saw one of the lawyers about to open his mouth.

"I'm not gonna play fair once you walk out of this room today." Ricky's cold words froze the woman in their tracks, their gazes shrinking as they all slowly turned towards him.

"But you're not supposed to-"

"You're right, you're not supposed to go after loved ones once the dust clears, and I wouldn't have even thought about it at all." Ricky knew the code, he knew that there was a line you weren't supposed to cross, but it was the mob bosses who stepped over it first as he let the silence hang for a moment, his gaze cold as ice, before he leaned in a little closer.

"If your f*cking husbands and sons didn't start it," Ricky leaned in, his presence intensifying as his aura pulsed with menace and every single person at the table felt a cold shiver tingle up their spines. 

"The balls they must've had to go after what's mine while I was away, thinking it would all be swept under the rug just 'cause they got popped." Ricky chuckled, but there was no warmth in it, almost predatory, and it left the women before him unnerved, their eyes darting between each other, unsure of how to respond. 

"But I don't want any accidents to happen like with the poor Nitti family up in Chicago." Ricky's words made the women lower their heads, sweat dripping down their faces as his eyes scanned them coldly.

"Mrs.-"

"Be quiet, now." Mrs. Bonanno silenced her lawyer, her trembling hand clenching into a fist before she finally looked up at him.

"So you're saying that if we all take the 350,000, then you'll let us go." Mrs. Bonanno finally said, slowly gazing up at a smiling Ricky, stretching it from ear to ear.

"Sure, I won't go after you if you give me what I think is mine." Ricky chuckled, watching as the women exchanged silent glances, an unspoken agreement passing between them.

"Fine, we-"

"But before you accept, can I tell you all a story?" Ricky asked, pulling the envelope back just before Mrs. Bonanno could take it, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"S-Sure?" Mrs. Bonanno glanced around nervously before her gaze returned to Ricky as he began pacing around the room.

"You know, there were a lot of numbers thrown around this week," Ricky said, side-eyeing them, still smiling as he took in their confused expressions.

"300, 350, and even 350 each." Ricky waved the envelope in the air, making a spectacle of it as all their eyes were drawn on it.

"But there is one number that really matters to me, 3." Ricky suddenly stopped at the end of the table once more, holding up three fingers to them all.

"3?" Mrs. Bonanno laughed, glancing at Ricky, who simply shook his head.

"Yeah, 3. But let's see if it's still funny, Mrs. Bonanno." Ricky's words wiped that smile right off of her face, watching him slowly turn to the side.

"You probably know this, I mean, it's not some hidden secret but I went away." Ricky repeated the same chagrin he always seemingly said, having said this very thing over and over again like some sort of broken record.

"Did some soul searching, went to the Vatican, really just found out a bunch of stuff and really got my sh*t together." Ricky sped it up, only giving some brief words to summarize, to let them all visualize what he was alluding to.

"But the key number is three years, a grand total of three years I was gone from New York." Ricky once again held up his three fingers, showing them to the group before squinting his eyes.

"For three years, I suffered through grueling training, hidden away like a goddamn piece of trash accidentally thrown too far after missing the bin. I was tucked away in that corner for all those years, until I finally came back out into the light." Ricky narrated, showing how pissed off he was even now, after already getting his revenge on the guys who orchestrated it all.

"Those three years, those 36 months, those 156 weeks, and those 1,095 days were all spent away. But before all of that, I was in New York." Ricky continued, wanting to make a show of it as it really laid it on thick.

"I was in Profaci's house after handling some business, only to find out some news." Ricky then stopped, turning towards them while raising his gaze.

"You're sons and husbands had just got done calling a meeting, a secret one like some rats having to hide away to get their f*cking cheese." Ricky pointed the envelope at them, until he slowly retracted it.

"They had found out about me being a mutant and just couldn't resist the mouth watering opportunity, the perfect excuse to ship me away." Ricky flew his hand to the side, expressing him being literally shipped away as his hand acted like some sort of boat.

"So a vote was called, without my pops, by the way, and it was decided that I was to be banished from New York." Ricky chuckled, a hint of pain still lingering, but after today, he felt that his heart would finally be at ease.

"But my pops, he came to me. He told me he wouldn't rest, that he'd fight for me if I showed the initiative." Ricky looked up at the ceiling, taking a second before laughing and turning back to them.

"I ran, though a part of me felt a little bitter, at the fact that the Commission forced my pops' hand, even though I could've stayed." Ricky sighed, getting a little tired of having to constantly explain himself to others and always describe this story.

"But even now, I'm still a little bitter about that memory from three years ago." Ricky revealed the real reason they were all here as one of the lawyers couldn't help but speak out.

"Are you telling me we're here because of that ancient bullshit?!" the lawyer asked, speaking for his client, as Ricky laughed heartily.

"That's right!" Ricky chuckled madly, appealing to the head of the table before all of them.

"That's why I'm here presenting you with a check for $350,000, minus $300,000, $100,000 for each year I was away." Ricky laughed, slamming the offer onto the table as they all looked at him, stunned.

"Leaving you with a grand total of $50,000." Ricky then slid the offer into the middle, amused with himself as they all stared at it, shocked beyond belief.

"That-that-"

"That is bullshit!" Mrs. Bonanno yelled at Ricky, her face red with anger, but Ricky just shrugged.

"We will walk out of here if you don't honor the full amount-" The lawyer tried to hold firm, but Ricky shook his head.

"No, you won't. You all won't last a day in those streets if you don't leave here with that $50,000." Ricky's ruthless laugh simmered into their ears, a clear warning that they were open season if they didn't take that check in hand.

"Because not one of you, not one, can stop the fucking tidal wave I'll unleash upon you if you don't do what I say, when I say it, with a smile." Ricky's words felt like a pressing echo, causing every one of them to lower their heads.

This wasn't a negotiation; it wasn't even an offer. It was pure and unbridled humiliation, and it was the entire reason why Ricky had come here.

He knew how high up they were on their little horses, looking down on him, but that all ended here. 

He was going to stain each and every one of their names until he felt like stopping, because that was the power he wielded, that was power to Ricky.

"And after reviewing your holdings, your debts, and all the damages you've incurred from the pinkertons, this check is the only safe pass you have from the hell that awaits you beyond those doors." Ricky spread out his arms, knowing that he had royally destroyed them and they would probably never financially recover even with the miniscule amount they split among them.

"So pick it up, put it in your pocket, and walk out of here." Ricky's words weren't a question, but a demand, as Gino placed a piece of paper on the table, marking the transfer of their holdings to the Luciano family trust.

"Or I will." Ricky raised his gaze, looking down at them as they all exchanged long, tense glances.

They were former wives and mothers of the mob heads; there was no one who didn't know who they were.

They had made people duck their heads and bow for them, yet that anxiety still crept in.

The fear of the unknown seeped into their minds as the Shadow Broker stood by their side, tearing their conscience piece by piece with every paper wielded.

It was from that anxiety, that fear, that Mrs. Bonanno reached out and grabbed the envelope before the pen. 

Signing her name on the dotted line, all the others followed suit, like the sheep they really were, as Ricky smiled warmly at this.

Slowly, one by one, they all walked away, leaving Ricky to take a seat at the head of the table. Soon, there was no one left except him, Jake, and Gino.

"Ruthless, just like Lucky at his age." Gino grabbed his shoulder, pulling up a chair next to him with an enthusiastic smile.

"Yeah, well, you've got to be in this business." Ricky sighed, leaning back as he stared at the ceiling.

It was only the start. Ricky knew he had to be even more ruthless, for there would always be wolves and hyenas circling around him, waiting for the first chance to pounce and tear off a chunk.

Sigh

"Well, good work, you two." Ricky then hauled his body up, adjusting his suit before wiping his nose.

"I've still got another meeting, but this time, I'm going solo." Ricky saluted Gino with a smile, then turned to look at Jake, who ducked his head.

"Take the rest of the day off." Ricky patted Jake's shoulder, knowing he shouldn't, but feeling small as he left the room.

"Where are you headed?" Jake asked, watching as Ricky tapped the beam above him while walking out the door.

"To the Steffiled residence, I got to rub some salt in some old wounds."


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