章節 115: Chapter 111: The Prince Has Arrived

2 weeks later,

In the middle of the day, the ship was unloading at one of the docks under the Luciano family's control as Chores approached Agatha with the bustle of activity continuing around them.

"Mistress Agatha, have you seen Slick? He's practically vanished," Chores asked, his voice tinged with concern as Agatha focused intently on checking her list once, checking it twice.

"He said something vague, like 'I have to say hello to an old friend,' and then just took off," Agatha replied, turning to Chores, who sighed and shook his head in frustration.

"What is so important that he just had to up and leave."

Upon arriving in New York, it wasn't his father he met first, nor his string of lovers, or even his friends.

It was a pair of graves, more specifically, Rocco's and Eddy's.

Eddy technically wasn't in the grave; his resting place was a cenotaph, a memorial without remains.

Frank hadn't been allowed to bury Eddy's ashes in the plot, but he was permitted to give him this much, a marker to honor the little brother which was now being honored by Ricky.

Laying flowers on the gravestones, Ricky couldn't shake the feeling that he had no right to mourn, no right to consider himself a good friend, because he knew he wasn't.

Even in death, he hadn't grown out of his selfishness, and now, standing here, he felt the weight of it more than ever.

In some way, their deaths were on his hands as he could never erase that truth, no matter how much time passed.

Ricky knew he could've taken a different path when he first got the system.

He could've prepared more, planned better, done something, anything, to avoid the outcome that still haunted him.

Those thoughts echoed relentlessly in his mind, like ghosts that wouldn't rest as the weight of what he could've done, and failed to do, was something he couldn't escape.

*Sigh*

"I was such a sh*tty friend to both of you." Ricky muttered, sinking down in front of the graves, his smile hollow and empty.

"The worst part is, I wasn't even a good friend when I realized it. I just went off and f*cked around, making it all about me." Ricky muttered, running a hand through his hair, his eyes shutting as a wave of shame washed over him.

"Only when I stopped making everything about me did I wish I could go back and be a better friend to both of you," Ricky said softly, his voice laced with regret.

Ricky had reincarnated, but even in this life, he had become a f*ck-up in his eyes, a failure to the people who mattered most, and that thought made him sick with disappointment in himself.

Taking a deep breath, Ricky stood silently before the graves, his gaze fixed on the names etched into the stone.

His shoulders tensed for a moment as he processed the weight of his thoughts and then, almost imperceptibly at first, a small smile crept onto his face, soft, bittersweet, and filled with a quiet resolve.

"Ha, do you guys remember that time we were being chased by that copper? You both freaked out when you saw me use my powers in action for the first time." Ricky chuckled softly, the sound hollow as it echoed in the stillness.

His smile was laced with sadness as he stared at the graves, their silence heavier than any reply could have been.

"Man, the look on your faces when you realized we'd made it across the bridge, priceless. I almost lost it laughing right then and there." Ricky let out a shaky laugh, his hand brushing against his eyes, seemingly wiping any dust from them.

"And you laughed with me, then at me, and then I punched your shoulders then we'd laugh some more." Ricky said, his voice cracking slightly as the laughter flowed from his stubborn lips.

Ricky ducked his head, his shoulders tense, before tilting his face up toward the sky, a stupid, bittersweet smile stretching across his lips.

"Man, I miss you guys so much," Ricky muttered, his voice heavy with emotion as he gazed into the empty air, his expression softening as memories flooded back.

"I remember back in the day, walking downstairs and finding you two fatasses eating all my food, grinning like idiots." Ricky's shoulders sagged, the weight of nostalgia pushing down on him while reminiscing about them gesturing him towards the kitchen table.

"And now whenever I go to a table-"

*Sniff*

"It's just empty man." Ricky let out a hollow chuckle, venting out all his grievances to the names etched in stone.

"It's just empty and I get this feeling, the one where I want to give y'all sh*t for eating my food," Ricky said, pointing to himself as he laughed a bit harder.

"But I can't cause both of you are gone, you know?" Ricky seemingly asked the etched names, brushing off some moss from Rocco's.

"And now all I want to do is f*ck around with both of you and not have to worry about all this BS that I constantly find myself in." Ricky admitted, his voice cracking slightly as he let out a hollow laugh.

"Ha, my bad, guys. I know y'all are up in heaven telling me to stop being a little b*tch," Ricky said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a shaky laugh as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Also, sorry for screwing your mom, Rocco, but I'm going to do right by her and your siblings," Ricky admitted, patting the gravestone.

He knew it was a real scumbag move to sleep with his dead friend's mom in the first place, and the weight of that guilt wasn't lost on him.

"And Eddy, I'm getting you that f*cking funeral, first thing, whether the church wants to or not." Ricky muttered, rubbing the dirt off the gravestone before stepping back a bit.

The determination in his voice was unwavering, a promise to make things right, even if only in this small way.

However, his last words were lodged in his throat when he sensed someone approaching from behind as he turned around and found himself face-to-face with a man smiling at him.

"Pops?" Ricky slicked his hair back, regaining his cool as Lucky laughed heartily, but his smile faltered slightly.

The flowers in his hand seemed to say it all was a mere coincidence, but the weight of the gesture lingered.

Lucky smiled softly, walking over to a grave in the distance as he carefully placed the flowers on it, his hand lingering as he gently rubbed the top of the headstone.

Lucky gestured for Ricky to join him, his expression unreadable, yet there was an unspoken understanding between them.

"This was Timmy 'Bolt' Jones." Lucky gazed down at the slightly worn grave, scratching the moss from the side.

"This was Timmy 'Bolt' Jones." Lucky's voice softened as he gazed down at the slightly worn grave, his fingers absentmindedly scratching the moss from the side as his eyes lingered on the name carved into the stone, a flicker of memory passing through him.

"Bled to death in my arms, and all I could do was assure him that heaven was a real place." Lucky's face crumbled for a moment, the weight of the memory pressing down on him.

But just as quickly, he shook it off, taking a deep breath to steady himself before meeting Ricky's eyes.

"You know, I left New York after that. Wound up drunk in New Jersey for around eight months before Frank pulled me out of my own despair." Lucky rubbed the top of the grave gently, his fingers brushing away the dirt as he looked back at Ricky, his expression somber yet resolute.

"Welcome back, son." Lucky pulled Ricky into a tight hug, his grip firm but comforting as he chuckled, returning the embrace and giving his back a light pat.

"Good to be back, pops." Ricky laughed, the two sharing a rare father-and-son moment, a brief yet meaningful connection that spoke louder than words ever could.

"Alright, stop being such a queer," Lucky grumbled, giving Ricky a shove, pushing him back.

Ricky laughed, the irony not lost on him as he was the one who started the hug, yet it was Lucky who was acting all tough.

"Hey, you're speaking to an affiliated cardinal of the church," Ricky said with a dramatic flair, spreading his arms wide. Lucky scoffed, shaking his head.

"Cardinal my ass, more like a jackass." Lucky said with a clear smile only for it to falter for a second, realizing that his playful insult didn't really hit the way he thought it would.

"To think, Lucky Luciano is losing his touch." Ricky elbowed Lucky, who rolled his eyes, knowing it wasn't that great, but he put his arm around Ricky's shoulder as they walked away.

"Come on, fill me in on what life was like overseas since I know you stopped in Sicily." Lucky chuckled at this, and Ricky suddenly remembered something.

"How's Rotolo?" Ricky suddenly asked, and Lucky laughed, gesturing to his suit.

"He's home," Lucky said, genuinely thanking Ricky in his own way, as the latter smiled.

"Now tell me what you've been up to, I cleared the whole day to tell me how much you got your ass kicked." Lucky patted his chest, Ricky laughing since, in a way, he was right.

"Well, it's a long story." Ricky smiled only for Lucky to gesture around him, the area completely void of a single soul.

"Well, I got plenty of time." Lucky announced, knowing that there wasn't anything more he wanted to do in that moment that caught up with Ricky.

"Alright, it really all started after I left-"

Ricky began recounting the whirlwind of events he'd endured, painting a vivid picture for Lucky.

He spoke of the relentless hunt for vampires, the harrowing battle that forced him to kill Dracula himself, and the fateful clash that led him to align with the Van Helsings.

Ricky's story unfolded further, touching on the war that ensued and the allies he'd forged through blood and fire along the way, including the women.

2 hours later,

*Smack*

"Ow, ow, stop that." Ricky said in an annoyed tone, shielding his head with his arms from Lucky's punches.

Lucky's initial happiness had quickly soured the moment he learned he had two more grandchildren.

"WHY CAN'T YOU F*CKING PULL OUT LIKE THE REST OF US!" Lucky yelled, his voice echoing as a vein throbbed prominently on his forehead, his fury radiating with every word.

"BECAUSE IT FEELS BETTER-"

*SMACK*

"DAMMIT, YOU LITTLE SH*T! COME BACK HERE!" Lucky roared, hobbling after Ricky with a noticeable limp who suddenly bolted away.

Ricky darted through the graveyard, his laughter echoing among the tombstones as he effortlessly evaded the older man's pursuit.

"STAND STILL SO I CAN BEAT THE NONSENSE OUT OF YOU!"

10 minutes later,

*Huff*

"When did you get so fast?" Lucky panted, collapsing onto a bench beside Ricky as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's these tonics the witches make." Ricky explained, pulling up his shirt to flex his bicep.

"They heighten your body during the growth period. I probably wouldn't have been able to kill Dracula without them." Ricky shamelessly flexed, using the tonics as an excuse to show off his muscles.

Lucky only rolled his eyes at the display, but Ricky's triumphant grin seemed to wipe away his annoyance.

"Well, now that I think about it, having them under our ranks doesn't sound so bad," Lucky admitted, leaning back and resting an arm on the bench as his casual posture was betrayed by the sharp, serious look in his eyes as he turned to Ricky.

"But are you sure you can control them?" Lucky asked, his tone firm as his eyes narrowed.

"You know as well as I do, you've got to be stronger in some way than your underlings. It's like the first thing I ever taught you." Lucky said with a frown, clearly underestimating Ricky as the latter chuckled, the sound low and confident, already relishing the moment he'd make his pops eat his skepticism.

"Trust me, check this out," Ricky said with a sly grin and upon rising to his feet, he casually brushed the lint off his sleeves before extending his hand, confidence radiating from his every movement.

"What are you doing-"

*WHOOSH*

The Ebony Blade suddenly boomeranged into Ricky's hand from the ship, the air around them whipping violently as the force sent Lucky's fedora flying off his head.

Lucky flinched, his eyes wide, as Ricky caught the blade effortlessly, his grin widening in response to Lucky's stunned expression.

"What the f*ck is that?!" Lucky shouted as he leaned back on the bench, pointing at the sword as it settled in Ricky's hand.

His disbelief was palpable, his mind struggling to reconcile what he was seeing with the laws of physics he so firmly believed in.

"It's called the Ebony Blade. Pretty cool, right?" Ricky grinned, holding it up with pride.

"And it talks." Ricky's toothy smile made Lucky feel incredibly weird, wanting to doubt his words only to remember literally seconds ago flying into his hands.

At his words, the blade seemed to hum with a sense of pride, its dark surface gleaming as though it were aware of the attention it was receiving.

"Tell your father I say hello," the Ebony Blade's voice echoed, its tone oddly smooth and confident and Ricky nodded in acknowledgment, a smirk tugging at his lips as he turned to Lucky.

"It says hello, by the way," Ricky said, pointing at the sheathed blade with a grin and Lucky, still processing, slowly waved his hand in acknowledgment, his expression a mix of confusion and reluctant acceptance.

"Hi-uh, Ebony Blade," Lucky mumbled, awkwardly waving at the sword.

To his surprise, the blade vibrated in response, almost as if it were waving back, its dark surface shimmering with a life of its own and Lucky finally noticed it.

"And you want to release a sentient sword into the wild?" Lucky whispered, his tone laced with doubt as he couldn't help but think that might not be the best idea and Ricky just shrugged, unfazed by the concern.

"Well, what's the worst that could happen?"

"A lot of things, literally so many things could happen." Lucky muttered, feeling every red flag in his gut and Ricky, however, just shrugged, his indifference only adding to Lucky's growing unease.

"Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see," Ricky shrugged, his gaze fixed on the blade as it reflected in his eyes.

Despite the uncertainty hanging in the air, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything would somehow work out in the end.

*Sigh*

"Well, I'm proud of you," Lucky suddenly said, a rare sincerity in his voice as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a cigar and offering one to Ricky with a small nod of approval.

"Wait what-"

"Shut up, don't ruin the moment and let me speak," Lucky grumbled, his voice rough but laced with a touch of affection.

He clipped the end of his cigar and struck a match, shielding the flame from the wind long enough to light it, the glow briefly illuminating his face.

"When you left, it was really hard for me, Ricky." Lucky continued, his voice heavy with frustration.

"Handling all your irresponsible actions, covering up your messes; it got to a point where it became too damn tiring." Lucky leaned back, jabbing the tip of his cigar in Ricky's direction, the ember glowing as he spoke and Ricky remained silent, absorbing the weight of his words.

"So when you left, choosing to leave, I thought it would be your biggest mistake but after seeing what you did and who you became, I was wrong.

" And honestly, the thing that scared me the most was that when you came back, you'd be the same," Lucky admitted, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. His gaze softened, a rare vulnerability creeping into his words.

"That you would just treat your time away as a vacation, some excuse to shelter yourself from your own problems but I can see that you've changed." Lucky took three slight puffs, bellowing out the smoke into the air.

"But I'm man enough to admit I was wrong," Lucky said, his tone shifting, signaling his approval resonating in his eyes.

Even if Ricky tried to brush past it, to skip over the revelation he'd made in the church, Lucky could see it, the weight that had always chained Ricky to his past was finally lifting.

Lucky had always known there was one thing holding Ricky back from becoming the man he had the potential to be.

It was hard for him to admit, but deep down, Lucky knew he couldn't be the one to fix it.

Ricky had to grow on his own and had to look inward and truly decide if he was strong enough to leave the past behind.

And it seemed, finally, he had found a way; digging deep into the ground, finding the roots that would hold not only him but the people who needed him most.

"I expected you to come running in here without a single plan of action. Guess I underestimated you." Lucky took a long drag from his cigar, his eyes never leaving Ricky.

"Wait, you do have a plan, right?" Lucky asked, his voice tinged with sudden concern, though his posture tense upon seeing Ricky, who simply shrugged in response.

"No."

"YOU LITTLE-"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, relax~" Ricky joked, plopping down next to Lucky as he lit his own cigar, taking a deep drag as he threw his arm over the back of the bench and laughed heartily, the sound echoing around them.

"I'm going to sue the government, take the fight to them first before they can come after us here," Ricky said, puffing out a cloud of smoke as Lucky's eyes widened, surprised that Ricky had come up with something similar to what he had been considering.

"Wow, I-I didn't think you'd think that far." Lucky flinched, actually thinking the same thing alongside Chester and taken aback that Ricky was in that same sphere of thinking.

"Oh shut the f*ck up." Ricky scoffed, receiving a chuckle from Lucky who nudged him.

"I'm serious." Lucky insisted, his tone more grounded than usual.

"I thought you were going to give me some plan that involved attacking the other mobsters, but I didn't think you'd actually realize the government's just waiting for us to slip up. They're just waiting to pounce on us when we make a move in New York." Lucky laughed, the tension melting away as he felt a surprising sense of relief.

Seeing Ricky think ahead, actually plotting something strategic, was a first, and it made him feel a lot more confident about their next steps.

"Well, whatever, I'm going to sue the government and Dewey in a civil suit, and hopefully win, or at least stall long enough to tie their hands together so we can really make a move." Ricky said, leaning back on the bench, his confidence radiating.

Lucky stood up, pacing around as he processed Ricky's words as the plan wasn't flawless, but it was bold, and it was exactly the kind of move they needed.

"No, it would be better if you win, at least in the lower courts, and take it all the way, or force it to the Supreme Court, like Chester suggested." Lucky said, gesturing toward Ricky as he nodded along, the idea making sense, but then he froze.

Something about the mention of Chester seemed to trigger a shift in his thoughts as he was a little bewildered.

"I'll talk with Chester-"

"I'm sorry, you'll talk with who now?" Ricky asked sharply, his voice a mix of confusion and suspicion.

He immediately stood up, his eyes locking onto Lucky, who had realized his slip of the tongue a moment too late. Lucky's face tightened, realizing the weight of what he had just revealed.

*Cough*

"So you see, the thing is-"

Lucky then proceeded to explain how he and Chester had devised a unique method of communication, a system that allowed them to stay connected and exchange ideas with ease.

Lucky also went on to explain how he had shared and entrusted Chester with his future plans, confiding in him like a trusted ally while receiving advice from a neutral perspective that evolved into a multitude of things.

In a surprising turn, the family had recognized Chester's value and offered him an honorary position as an advisor.

The weight of the gesture caught Chester off guard, even upon hearing this, Ricky's usual composure faltered as he stood there, slack-jawed.

This wasn't just a role you could throw around, especially within the mafia, in a community that was very strict on who was in need to know, it was a sign of the family's trust in him, and one that placed him in a position he never expected.

Chester had always been the quiet observer, the one who stayed in the background, but now, with this new role, he would be pulled deeper into the family's web of power and influence.

"I always thought it was suspicious how Rockefeller just let you off like that," Lucky said, snapping his fingers with a knowing look.

Lucky didn't need to ask; he already had a pretty good idea of how Ricky managed to wriggle out of that jam thanks entirely to Chester.

"Holy sh*t, I completely forgot about that!" Ricky exclaimed, the realization hitting him all at once.

Without warning, he jumped up and down, his excitement palpable as the memory came rushing back.

"Pops, do you know what this means?!" Ricky burst out, his laughter growing uncontrollable, a wild edge to it as he paced in excitement as his eyes gleamed with money signs, his hands rubbing together widely as if he was using lotion.

Meanwhile, Lucky, calm and composed, took a slow drag from his cigar, the smoke curling lazily around him as he watched Ricky with an almost detached amusement.

"That you're insane-"

"No, we're rich!" Ricky shouted, his voice a mix of disbelief and exhilaration. He was grinning ear to ear, as if the revelation was a new discovery.

Lucky, however, simply exhaled a cloud of smoke, already well aware of the news Ricky was so eager to announce, his expression unreadable.

"Slick, we're already rich," Lucky pointed out, his tone matter-of-fact as he leaned back, the weight of his words clear.

Ricky, however, shook his head, a wild grin spreading across his face as if the magnitude of the situation had only just fully sunk in. He wasn't quite ready to accept the calm certainty in Lucky's voice.

"I mean like 20 million dollars richer-"

"Oh yeah, I forgot to fill you in, but Lucky Legacy Bank is worth around 200 million," Lucky revealed casually, as though it was just another piece of information.

The words hung in the air, and Ricky went still, his eyes widening as the weight of the revelation hit him.

For a moment, he froze, the enormity of the number crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

Then Lucky started to reveal just how profitable opening a bank with the motto 'Where Everyone Can Bank' had spiraled into.

At first, Lucky Legacy Bank was nothing more than a joke, a laughingstock in the eyes of the public.

Most saw it as an absurd idea, destined to fail.

The opening of the new establishment within Harlem was met with skeptical eyes, even among its own residents.

Despite Madame's backing, many remained on edge, wary of another white man getting involved with their hard-earned money.

There was a deep-rooted mistrust, a lingering fear that the system would once again exploit them, as it always had.

Even with Madame's influence and the promise of security, the community hesitated, unsure whether this new venture was truly on their side or just another trap disguised as opportunity.

That is, until Elijah opened an actual savings account and was allowed to do so without issue.

It was such a normal action, the man receiving his bank book and all his credentials and even being approved for a small business loan as the the witnesses who saw it were surprised.

He wasn't insulted, beaten, or dismissed and instead, he was treated with the respect of an actual human being, something so rare in their experience that it left them simply shocked.

It wasn't what they expected as the usual coldness, the patronizing gestures, or the violent dismissals were absent.

In their place was a rare sense of decency, a gesture of genuine respect that caught them off guard, leaving them to wonder if they could truly trust the sincerity behind it.

Slowly, through Madame's connections and hushed whispers, the bank's notoriety began to spread within the black community.

What was once dismissed as a one off joke had transformed into a symbol of empowerment, becoming so prominent in certain circles that it was soon known as the 'Negro Bank' to the outside world that wasn't invested within them.

Strangely enough, it was this very label that propelled its success.

By excluding black clientele, the entire banking industry had a unique safe haven for black people, sparing them from the financial ruin that had befallen many in the wake of the stock market crash and allowing Lucky Legacy Bank to be an unusual form of a slush fund.

The average black man, with a modest stash of between $1,000 and $3,500, was protected from the devastating losses that wiped out so many others.

New York City had a rough population of 6.7 million residents, 216,026 within centeral harlem, and only 35% of those of the African American descent, with the entire bulk of that 35% or 70,000 residing within the community of Harlem.

So under the networking of Madame, word spread quickly, and what followed was a domino effect.

The buzz reached ears across the community, sparking a demand for an institution where their money could remain safe and grow along with interest.

This eventually led to what many would come to call 'The Great Flock,' a term initially coined in a sarcastic, almost mocking tone to describe the mass migration of black depositors flocking to Lucky Legacy Bank.

At first, it was a form of ridicule, a way to mock the idea that so many would place their trust in a single institution.

But over time, the phrase lost its sting as it instead marked the bank's rise to prominence, solidifying its place as a financial powerhouse within the community, and a testament to the collective trust they had placed in it.

By 1933, Lucky Legacy Bank had 10,000 accounts. The following year, in 1934, that number skyrocketed to 35,000 as the bank's reputation grew and once it had solidified its position within the community, the numbers truly caught fire.

Word spread quickly, and what began as a modest venture soon exploded in popularity, attracting more depositors than anyone could have anticipated.

Even Black folks from surrounding states, and even from the southern states, would make the long drive to New York just to open an account.

In 1935, LLC had 400,000 and now it was up to 1,250,000, and steadily growing as being the first bank to hold the black peoples trust came with various benefits.

This, of course, began to disrupt the status quo and what was initially mockery, an assumption that the Black community's financial dealings were insignificant, soon turned into sour faces and furrowed brows.

The once-dismissed market of this marginalized group of people had evolved into a profitable venture that couldn't be ignored, even by those who had formed this way of banking.

In simpler terms, Lucky Legacy Bank and its future regional chains made money through a steady flow of deposits and the interest they earned on those accounts.

The bank offered an annual profit of 7.5% on savings accounts, with the average account holding around $2,000.

With 1,250,000 accounts, this resulted in a total annual profit of approximately $187,000,000.

While this may not have seemed extraordinary when compared to larger, more established banks, the real power lay in the bank's growth.

The rapid expansion of accounts, the trust it had earned, and the steady influx of new depositors were reshaping the banking sector.

It wasn't just the numbers that made Lucky Legacy Bank unique; it was the way it had disrupted the industry and created a viable, profitable alternative for a community that had long been overlooked.

Even when smaller banks attempted to tap into this profitable market, they quickly failed for one simple reason: Lucky Legacy Bank had already secured the trust of Madame, the first and most influential illegal bank in the area.

Madame's role in the bank's success was paramount; her vast network of connections reached deep into the heart of Harlem and extended all the way to the farthest corners of the South.

It was through her connections that Lucky Legacy Bank was able to expand rapidly, with plans to open six new branches across the southern states.

This was, of course, overlooking the fact that any bank daring to encroach on Lucky Legacy Bank's territory faced swift and brutal retribution.

Rival institutions that tried to challenge them often found themselves violently confronted, their employees ambushed in dark alleyways with their kneecaps shattered.

These incidents, though undeniably effective in sending a message, were almost always swept under the rug, dismissed as unfortunate and unreported occurrences.

However, it wasn't just the savings accounts that fueled Lucky Legacy Bank's success.

The bank's strategic investments, along with its ability to wash money, played a crucial role in propelling its value to around $250 million.

The combination of these elements made the bank so profitable that Lucky found himself at a crossroads, contemplating whether it would be more beneficial to focus all his energy on this thriving venture and hand over control of the Luciano family to Ricky.

Though the decision was on his mind, Lucky was still waiting to see if Ricky had the capability to handle such responsibility, unsure if he was ready to take the reins just yet.

"Holly sh*t," Ricky muttered, his eyes wide with disbelief. The Luciano family held a staggering 98% stake in Lucky Legacy Bank, as it was a private institution with Madame owning only a mere 2%.

Lucky nodded in acknowledgment, the weight of the numbers settling between them.

Ricky couldn't believe how much control they had, how much power this one venture had given them. It was a game-changer, and the realization that Madame's small share barely registered in comparison to the Luciano family's dominance was almost too much to grasp.

"I've even got people like JP Morgan Jr. trying to invest, but I'll be damned if I let a prick have a piece of the Luciano family name." Lucky scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain at the very mention of Morgan's name.

The thought of someone else gaining control or influence over the family's legacy was an insult he couldn't stomach.

"Anyways, with the Luciano family taking in 50 million and being able to clean half of that, we really don't have to worry about money. Our only concern is someone disrupting the flow." Lucky emphasized, raising an eyebrow at Ricky as his gaze was pointed, a silent challenge lingering in the air, as Ricky was the only one who could truly jeopardize the operation.

Ricky, however, brushed past it, his mind focused elsewhere, as if the warning had already been heard and dismissed.

"Pops, listen I have a great business idea that-"

"Yeah sure, just give me the paperwork." Lucky waved him off, dabbing the cigar ashes to the side.

"Is it that simple?" Ricky asked, genuinely curious, his voice laced with skepticism and Lucky merely shrugged, the gesture casual but carrying an underlying confidence.

"Well, I was going to suggest you start a legitimate business, but it looks like you've already done it for me," Lucky said with a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with approval.

"Wait, you're not just talking out of your ass and actually got the right people for this idea, right?" Lucky suddenly asked, halting his thoughts

"Yerp."

"Well that's good, then let's get to the main event." Lucky stood up, gesturing to the side as Frank slowly walked out from the side.

It was then that Ricky turned to see the entire Luciano family making their way toward the graves, each step measured and resolute.

Frank led the procession, holding the urn containing Eddy's ashes with quiet reverence.

Beside him, their grandmother, the oldest living member of the family, walked with a steady arm linked through his.

She was a symbol of their families endurance, having outlived her son and daughter-in-law, both of whom were already in the afterlife, waiting for Eddy to join them.

The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, as the family moved together, bound by loss and the unspoken ritual of their bloodline that was supposed to given to all those within the christian faith.

Ricky's gaze fell on Frank, and though no words were spoken, an understanding passed between them, silent, yet palpable.

It was the kind of unspoken communication only family could share and without hesitation, Ricky opened his portal, swiftly pulling out his decorative cardinal uniform.

He ducked behind a nearby tree, the rustle of fabric faint in the quiet air as he changed and once the uniform was on, he walked back toward the family, his steps purposeful and steady.

The air was thick with silence as the family stood, eyes fixed on Ricky, their expressions a mix of emotions.

Despite their deeply rooted beliefs and the traditions that defined them, they couldn't ignore the weight of Ricky's position, his authority within the family and his role within the church demanded respect.

Slowly, one by one, they lowered their heads, a silent acknowledgment of his status, awaiting the Honorary Cardinal to speak.

The moment was heavy, charged with the tension of reverence, anticipation, and a deep, unspoken understanding that Ricky's words would carry far more than just familial weight.

Alexander wasn't here to help, but funny enough, Ricky felt as if he wouldn't need his skill to convey everything he wanted to say.

"Three years ago, a young man and one of my closest friends, Eddie Costello, passed away." Ricky began, his voice low as he gently patted the cenotaph.

His hand lingered on it for a moment before he gripped it tightly, as if drawing strength from the stone itself.

"And it's true that Eddy took his own life." Ricky continued, his voice heavy with regret but a determination resonating within his eyes.

"But not only as all of you as my audience, but under the heavens themselves, I need to say; it wasn't Eddy's fault. It was mine." Ricky tapped his chest, his fingers pressing into the fabric of his suit as if to anchor himself in the weight of his words.

The entire family was silent, all eyes on him and Eddy's grandmother, standing at the front of the group, looked as though she wanted to cry, but she held her tears back, her face a mixture of sorrow and restraint.

"I was supposed to be his friend, someone he could depend on, and I failed him." Ricky spoke from the heart, as he looked up at the cloudy sky.

"The writings were painted on the walls, the signs were there but I just ignored them, pretended not to see the pain that Eddy was going through, and there isn't a day I don't want to go back and punch myself, then just talk with him." Ricky gripped the cenotaph tightly, gnashing his teeth.

"It didn't have to be words of comfort, I just needed to be there for him in any sense and I couldn't even do that." Ricky then let out a deep breath, then turned his eyes towards the others.

"That's why I'll bear Eddy's sin." Ricky said, his voice steady but heavy with resolve.

"I'll take on its burden, and in doing so, I'll pardon Eddy from the sin that anchors him to this world. I'll give my forgiveness, as one of God's voices." Ricky's words seemed to manifest in the air, carrying a weight that felt almost tangible.

Yet, deep down, Ricky didn't fully believe in religion, nor did he claim to be a devout man.

But in that moment, he spoke with the authority of someone who needed to say it; not just for the family, but for himself, as if the act of speaking the words would somehow lift a burden he could no longer carry alone but as Ricky spoke those words, something strange began to happen.

A phenomenon, subtle at first, slowly transformed the skies above them as the clouds seemed to peel away, parting as if in response to Ricky's plea, and a bright ray of sunshine broke through, shining down onto the cenotaph with a brilliance that seemed almost divine, as if the heavens themselves were accepting his words.

The entire family stood in stunned silence, each person feeling the weight of the moment.

Eddy's grandmother, overcome with emotion, fell to her knees, clutching her prayer beads tightly, tears of joy streaming down her face.

Frank, usually the stoic one, stood frozen, spellbound by the inexplicable event unfolding before them. The light seemed to wash over the family, a sign, or perhaps a blessing, that no one could deny.

Even Lucky, thinking Ricky wasn't even holy in the metaphorical sense, slowly took off his fedora while gazing up with his mouth agape.

"Now, let's give Eddy the burial he deserved."

With those next words, as if the heavens themselves had willed it, shovels suddenly dug into the empty grave, their rhythmic motion filling the air as the ground was slowly turned.

The hole deepened, and in that moment, Frank stepped forward, a warm, bittersweet smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The years had worn down the tough, hard-nosed man standing before them, the weight of loss heavy on his shoulders.

Frank had always been the pillar of his family, the one everyone leaned on, but the death of Eddy had cracked him in ways no one could see.

Beneath his hardened exterior, the loss had left him fragile, struggling with the unspoken grief that gnawed at him.

Frank was a believing man.

He believed in the Luciano family, in God, and in his own blood, leaving no room in his heart for anything else.

But after the church had shunned his little brother, condemning him as an eternal sinner, Frank was torn.

To watch his younger brother deteriorate into a hollow shell of the person he once was, and then be treated like some sort of demon, was a wound that ran deeper than Frank had ever admitted.

It shattered him at his core, leaving scars he couldn't ignore even when he desperately tried.

The following years didn't offer any solace and even as Frank pushed the family to new heights, elevating their status and influence, he felt as though he were drowning beneath the weight of it all.

The very beliefs that had once guided him, given him purpose and direction, now felt like a labyrinth with no exit.

His faith, which had once been his anchor, now left him feeling adrift, lost in a sea of confusion and doubt.

At his lowest point, when he felt like he was simply drifting through life, Frank had heard Ricky's speech with a bottle of rum in his hands.

Frank had barricaded himself within his office, as he often did throughout the day, seeking refuge from the world outside.

The walls, thick with the weight of his own thoughts, had become his sanctuary, his only escape from the relentless pressure of running the family and the quiet, gnawing ache that followed him in the wake of Eddy's death.

But then, Ricky's words came to him, clear and unwavering as the sound of them rang in Frank's ears, and for a fleeting moment, it was as if everything clicked into place.

Ricky had promised to recognize Eddy, to give him the funeral he deserved, something Frank never thought he would see in his life, see a moment of redemption for his little brother.

It was then, in that silent moment of realization, that Frank allowed himself to believe, if only for a brief second, that maybe there was still hope.

Maybe, in some way, Eddy could find peace and maybe, just maybe, the smile he always remembered would at least return in the next life.

*Sniff*

"You rest up in heaven, you hear?" Frank sniffled, his voice cracking with emotion and as he whispered the words to Eddy as if speaking directly to his brother's spirit.

His hand trembled slightly as he pressed a kiss to the urn, the weight of the moment bearing down on him.

Slowly, he lowered the urn into the pit, his eyes welling with tears and as the urn settled into the earth, he wiped his eyes quickly, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of grief and relief that surged through him all at once.

A mobster stepped forward, holding the shovel in his calloused hands as it was customary for those close to the deceased to take part in the burial, a final act of respect and loyalty.

He stood by Frank, waiting for him to give the signal, but Frank's smile remained, steady and sure, as he gestured toward Ricky.

"No, I'd like Slick to do the honors," Frank said suddenly, his voice steady but filled with a quiet resolve.

Frank reached out and gently pushed the shovel away, refusing the task of burying his little brother and instead, he turned to Ricky, offering him a warm, almost peaceful smile.

"It'd be my honor." Ricky said softly, his voice steady despite the gravity of the moment and as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around the cold handle of the shovel.

With a purposeful stride, he walked over to the pit, his every step resonating with the weight of the responsibility he was about to carry out.

The shovel sank into the mound of dirt, the heavy metal cutting through the soil with a satisfying thud.

Ricky's arms worked in steady rhythm, lifting and dumping the earth into the pit and each shovelful fell with a quiet finality, covering Eddy's urn as it fulfilled the promise Ricky had made, a funeral for his friend that would honor his life, his struggles, and now, his peace.

The dirt slowly piled higher, shrouding the urn completely as the weight of the moment settled over them all.

Ricky hadn't done much for Eddy while he was alive, the distance between them often marked by unspoken words and missed opportunities.

But in his death, Ricky didn't ask for any amends but used this chance to simply do right by Eddy, like any true friend would.

As the earth fell upon the urn, Ricky's resolve solidified as it wasn't much, but it was everything he had left to give.

The lingering regret that had weighed heavily on Ricky's chest began to lift, the burden easing as earth firmly settled over Eddy's urn.

He couldn't hold onto this part of himself any longer, not when it meant keeping a sorrow alive that had no place in the present.

As he closed his eyes, Ricky felt that part of him, the guilt and the missed chances, finally buried alongside his friend.

'Rest in peace buddy, you deserve that much.'

The family began to disperse from the scene, each member silently returning to their duties.

There were still deals to be made, debts to collect, and people who needed to sleep with the fishes.

"Oh, thank you, thank you~" Eddy's grandmother sobbed into Ricky's embrace, her gratitude pouring out in waves.

She had been thanking him for the past twenty minutes, her voice trembling with emotion as she clung to him, her hands gently patting his back in a mix of sorrow and relief.

"I only did what Eddy would've done for me, that's all," Ricky chuckled, holding the old woman in a gentle embrace.

She looked up at him with teary eyes, then reached up to tap his cheek lightly, her smile bittersweet yet full of gratitude.

"You're a good boy, be proud of yourself." Eddy's grandmother gave him a warm smile, saying such simple words that left Ricky a little speechless.

"Slick, thank you," Frank said, stepping up to Ricky's side as he gave his shoulder a firm tap, his proud expression softening the weathered lines of his face.

While the scars of his grief hadn't healed overnight, there was a noticeable shift, a little more color returned to his complexion, as if the weight he carried had lightened just slightly.

"And grandma, Slick still has stuff he needs to do." Frank then turned to his grandma, prying her from Ricky before gesturing her away.

"You come over for dinner some time, you are too skinny!" Eddy's grandmother shouted as she was essentially shooed away by Frank.

Lucky, unable to suppress his smile, strolled over and draped an arm around Ricky's shoulder, giving his chest a hearty pat.

"C'mon, let's go move all your sh*t from the port." Lucky said with a light shove, nudging Ricky as they began walking toward the car waiting patiently by the curb.

"Also, I got another surprise for you at the house, so let's hurry up," Lucky chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes and Ricky, curious, couldn't help but wonder if it was a brand new car.

Arriving at the dock with Ricky some time later, they all started unpacking all of the three years spent away.

With a strange expression, Lucky tried not to feel like an outsider as he watched warlocks and witches effortlessly lift various items into the air.

Meanwhile, skeletons shuffled around, moving the lesser trinkets off the ship as he couldn't help but feel the weight of it all, he was unknowingly part of this world now, whether he wanted to be or not.

Lucky departed a little while later, feeling a bit overwhelmed and Ricky didn't blame him as he helped until they really didn't need him anymore as he arrived back at the old mansion.

"Ah~" Ricky took in a large breath of fresh air.

"Home sweet, home." Ricky then heaved out that breath of fresh air, walking forwards while rubbing his hands together.

"Pops, pops, you home?" Ricky called out as he walked up the stairs, not expecting anything that huge as he saw Lucky standing outside a door.

"You ready?" Lucky asked, knocking on the door. Ricky rubbed his hands together, curiosity bubbling up inside him about what to expect.

However, contrary to his expectations, the door creaked open to reveal a pink room.

In the center stood a small, four-year-old girl with blonde hair, clutching a teddy bear in her arms as her eyes locked onto Ricky as she stood there, innocently staring.

*SMACK*

Ricky stood frozen in the doorway, momentarily stunned by the unexpected sight of the little girl.

Before he could process what was happening, Lucky smacked the back of his head with a smirk, sneering at him.

"Say hello to your daughter, Danielle." Lucky scoffed, pushing the frozen stiff Ricky forward as he stumbled into the room slathered head to toe in pink.

"F*cking idiot." Lucky hissed out, knowing that Ricky probably thought he was going to get a brand new car as he closed the door behind him.

Ricky stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the girl whose name echoed that of his departed sister.

The mention of it caught him off guard as he stared at the little girl, who shyly lowered her eyes, her grip on the teddy bear tightening as she shyly dug her face into it.

However Ricky didn't shy away this time, he didn't turn around and leave but slowly got on one knee with a bright and loving smile.

"Hi, I'm Ricky Luciano but the best part is that I'm your dad."

Author's Note: I feel like a POS but I'm literally addicted to rewatching and binging all of Overlord, I'll see your comments eventaully. MB.

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章節 116: Chapter 112: Pleasant Day Ruined

[Name: Danielle Luciano

Mother's Line: Dolly Henderson

Grade: C

Template: N/A

Description: Dolly had been unaware that you even knew that she was pregnant and had been hiding it from you all this time, hence the distancing. Giving birth in secret, Dolly gave birth to your first child though decided single motherhood wasn't an option and gave her to Lucky.

Abilities:

X-Gene Empathic Touch: An ability that allows the user to perceive and understand the emotions of others through physical contact. When the user touches another person, they instantly gain insight into that person's current emotion.]

This was the window Ricky often found himself staring through after his training sessions, lost in thought as sometimes he would gaze out at it, wondering about the kind of little person he had brought into the world.

Back then, he hadn't cared much for his bastards or their individuality, their potential, or the lives they might lead.

Instead, his thoughts had been more selfish, centered on whether they could one day hand him a few bucks for beer.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Ricky said with a smile, his tone light and inviting as Danielle clutched her teddy bear a little tighter, her small hands gripping it like a shield.

"Yeah." Danielle murmured softly, nodding as her wide, expectant eyes lifted to meet his.

Grandpop Lucky had always filled her head with stories about Ricky—the daring things he'd done for the family, the way he commanded respect, and, most importantly.

How much he loved her.

However, Danielle was scared, terrified even, that Ricky wouldn't love her the way Grandpop Lucky always said he would.

Her tiny hands clutched the teddy bear tighter as Ricky stepped forward, lowering himself onto one knee to meet her at eye level.

Danielle didn't know how to react, her social anxiety creeping in as she averted her eyes to the floor and hesitantly extended her hand.

Her X-Gene had given her the ability to sense and read others' emotions, a trait that had shaped her behavior over time.

She had developed a habit of feeling secure only after understanding how someone felt about her.

It was why she always felt safe in Lucky's arms, his overwhelming care and affection for her were like a comforting blanket that eased her fears.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to come back," Ricky said softly, a warm smile spreading across his face as he gently took Danielle's small hand in his.

"Looks like we've got a lot of catching up to do." Ricky's chuckle was lighthearted, but the weight of his words wasn't lost on either of them as his emotions flowed towards her.

Danielle's eyes welled up, her lips trembling as tears began to spill, overwhelmed by the moment she had always hoped for.

*Sniff*

"Wh-What did I do?" Ricky stammered, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Then, like a wave, it hit him, the empathic sensation flowing back from Danielle, her emotions brushing against his own.

Relief, pure and overwhelming relief.

Before he could say another word, Danielle dropped her bear and bolted into his arms, wrapping herself around him tightly.

Ricky staggered slightly, caught off guard, but steadied himself as her small frame trembled against his chest.

She sniffled, clutching him with all the strength her little arms could muster, as if afraid he might disappear.

Ricky simply smiled, caressing her bright blond hair while showing his sincerity, and in that moment, all her fears dissolved.

10 minutes later,

Lucky, who had been peeking in through the crack of the door, couldn't help but smile at the scene before him.

Ricky sat on the floor with Danielle curled up on his lap, her tiny arms still clinging to him as if she never wanted to let go.

Ricky's expression was soft, his hand gently patting her back as he murmured something soothing.

'You're kidding.' Lucky frowned, peeking through the door, knowing how shy Danielle was as she avoided talking to nearly everyone and clammed up at the slightest attention.

Yet, somehow, Ricky had managed to break through that wall with ease.

But Ricky had a way with his kid that was impossible to explain as it was like he had a natural gift for making people feel comfortable, especially those closest to him.

Kids, no matter how timid or reserved, always seemed to feel comfortable around Ricky, like he had an unspoken way of making them feel seen and understood.

For the last ten minutes, the two had been chatting back and forth, diving into the simplest yet most endearing topics as their conversation flowed effortlessly, going something like this:

"What's your favorite color?" Ricky asked, glancing up at the pink walls, already having a pretty good idea of the answer.

"Pink." Danielle replied softly, and Ricky chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Who's the coolest person you know?" Ricky asked, his tone light and Danielle's smile bloomed as she looked down, her cheeks tinged with pink.

"I don't know," Danielle muttered, though her smile was evident, causing Ricky to laugh.

"Oh, come on, you have the answer right in front of you." Ricky gestured to himself dramatically, and Danielle let out a soft laugh.

"Chester."

"W-What!?" Ricky's jaw dropped, exaggerating his shock as he swayed Danielle in his arms, her laughter filling the room once more.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you my favorite color," Ricky said, thinking aloud. Danielle looked up at him, waiting for an answer, but he remained silent.

"What is it?" Danielle murmured, eager for the answer.

Ricky smiled down at her, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before snapping his fingers right in front of Danielle to keep her attention.

"Mine's green. So, what's your favorite food-"

As they talked, Ricky learned all sorts of things about his daughter; Danielle loved pink, her favorite person was him and not Chester, she adored Lucky and Chester, and she had a soft spot for ice cream and horses.

What Danielle hated, though, was the color blue, for some reason she couldn't explain.

She also disliked Frank, and swans, there was just something about them that unsettled her but what really caught Ricky off guard was her intense dislike of baseball caps.

"Why baseball caps?"

"They look funny."

"I guess I never thought of that," Ricky mused, realizing that baseball caps did look a little odd now.

"Are you going to leave again?" Danielle asked softly, her voice filled with uncertainty.

"Probably," Ricky said softly, his gaze dropping to Danielle, the weight of his words bringing a sudden sadness to her expression.

"Oh." Danielle's somber tone echoed out, holding his hand a little tighter as Ricky felt an intense wave of sadness flow through her.

"But it's only work and I'll be gone for a couple of weeks." Ricky rubbed her blond hair, seeing the girl look back up at him.

"Will you come back?" Danielle asked, her big eyes filled with a quiet desperation as she clutched his shirt tightly, afraid he might slip away if she didn't hold on.

"Duh." Ricky pinched her cheek, only for Daneille to slowly duck her head again.

"Will you leave me again?" Danielle asked, not wanting him to leave as she looked a little teary eyed.

"Uh, of course not." Ricky grinned, gently lifting her chin so she looked up at him, pinching her cheeks playfully.

"If I ever move or settle down somewhere else, you're coming with me." Ricky revealed, his words making Danielle's eyes light up with excitement, stars practically twinkling in them as she looked at him in awe.

"Really?"

"Of course, I'm taking you with me, kiddo. I'll stuff you in my suitcase if I have to." Ricky laughed, and Danielle finally let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing as a smile spread across her face.

"Okay." Danielle felt content at his words, lowering her gaze along with her wide smile.

"Anyways, you want to get some ice cream?" Ricky asked, standing up as Danielle snuggled into his arms.

"Yeah." Danielle rested her head on his shoulder, her voice soft as they walked out of the room together.

*BAM*

Ricky opened the door suddenly, causing Lucky to tumble backward, rubbing his head as a bump quickly formed.

"Ow~" Lucky groaned, rubbing his back and looking up at Ricky, raising an eyebrow and offering a smile.

"Grandpop?" Danielle tilted her head cutely, her blonde pigtails swaying as she looked at him with curiosity.

"Hey, honey bear, I was just fixing the door," Lucky lied with a sheepish grin, but Ricky snickered, earning a glare as they walked past him.

"Let's go, honey bear, we've got ice cream to eat while grandpop here fixes the door," Ricky teased, walking away with Danielle in tow as Lucky shot him a hateful glare, but Ricky just laughed, clearly enjoying the moment.

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask, how's Jake been?" Ricky stopped and glanced back at Lucky, who let out a dry cough.

"I'll fill you in after you take her out for some ice cream," Lucky said, forcing a smile. Ricky raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, he looked down to see Danielle tugging at his shirt.

"What are you getting?" Danielle asked cutely, her big eyes wide with curiosity. Ricky smiled, hoisting her into his arms as they stepped out the door.

"Whatever you want, kiddo," Ricky said with a wink, carrying her outside.

"I don't know what I want." Danielle pouted, feeling unease at all the flavors she would have to pick from.

"What about chocolate?" Ricky asked, walking out of the mansion as the sun hadn't quite set in.

"I don't want Chocolate."

"Then do you want to get Vanilla?"

"Yeah."

Their conversations played out like this, with Ricky asking questions and Danielle offering brief, shy responses.

It was a rhythm they had fallen into, comfortable and easy, each word exchanged like a small step toward getting to know each other better.

When they arrived at the ice cream parlor, Danielle clung to him like a koala bear on an eucalyptus tree, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as they sat down.

The moment they entered, whispers seemed to ripple through the small crowd.

Ricky didn't bother paying attention to the passing glances; his focus was on Danielle, who was nestled close to him, her small form practically fused to his side.

Two vanilla sundaes were set down in front of them, the whipped cream piled high and topped with a cherry.

"On the house, Slick. Welcome home." One of the servers said with a smile, nodding toward Ricky, who returned the gesture with a grin of his own.

"Cheers," Ricky replied, lifting his glass in a casual toast before clicking it gently against Danielle's.

She, in her excitement, hurriedly took her ice cream, the cold sweetness causing her face to light up with delight.

Ricky watched her for a moment, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as she dug in, oblivious to the stares around them as it was a simple moment, one that felt like it could last forever.

"You really like ice cream."

"I really do."

They both laughed at the sight, Danielle's joy infectious as she continued to enjoy her ice cream, a little smear of chocolate on her cheek.

Ricky, however, couldn't help but glance out the window, his gaze drifting over the busy streets.

Gazes passed him as if he were a fleeting wonder, but Ricky knew the truth since they weren't looks of curiosity, they were filled with fear.

His presence in the city wasn't just noticed; it was felt.

His very existence meant something to the people who looked his way, like a match to the gasoline.

The families had begun disputing over everything, and Ricky's return was the spark that threatened to ignite it all.

The growing discontent simmered beneath the surface, unnoticed by most but felt by those who were close enough to see the cracks.

Nothing had erupted into full-blown violence yet, but the small, constant squabbles were enough to weigh heavily on the people around him.

Law-abiding citizens couldn't help but feel the tension in the air, it was only a matter of time before their world collided with the chaos of the underworld, whether they liked it or not.

"Are you looking at the balloon too?" Danielle quietly asked, snapping Ricky out of his daze as he looked back at her and then back out the window.

There, he saw a kid walking around with a pink balloon, laughing loudly while talking to his friend as a thought sparked in his mind.

"Hey, Danielle, close your eyes," Ricky said with a smile. Danielle, ever trusting, shut her eyes, her curiosity piqued as Ricky stood up.

However, the fearful gazes that lingered on Ricky didn't bother him at all and sometimes, they had their benefits.

"Hey, brat!" Ricky called out to the kid with the balloon, a grin spreading across his face.

The moment the kid's eyes locked on him, they widened in fear, his smile faltering as he froze in place.

It wasn't all that uncommon for people to recognize Ricky after the Irish massacre as the families made sure he was easily identifiable, a tactic to ensure he could be reported if necessary.

However, this had a butterfly effect and slowly, everyone on the streets began to learn what Ricky looked like.

"Oh geez, what did you do, Trevor!" One of the kids yelped, backing up quickly, leaving Trevor standing alone.

"I swears, I didn't do anything, Slick I'm sorry-"

"Give me your balloon." Ricky held out his hand, his fingers making a 'gimme' motion as Trevor glanced nervously at the balloon.

"B-But, it's my balloon-"

"Actually, kid, you're just confused." Ricky pointed at the balloon with a smile, his tone almost playful.

"That's actually my balloon, so cough it up." Ricky leaned in a little closer, his smile never fading but his eyes cold since he wasn't afraid to go as far as pushing him to the ground then stealing his lunch money.

"Trevor, just give it to him!" Trevor's friend whispered loudly from the side, clearly nervous as Trevor hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly held out the balloon.

"Hmmmm." Ricky hummed thoughtfully, glancing down at the balloon as he took it from the kid's trembling hand.

"Now you're making me feel like some kind of thug. You think I'm a thug?" Ricky asked, raising an eyebrow as Trevor quickly shook his head, wide-eyed.

"No I-"

"You know what would make me feel better? Your lunch money. Cough it up." Ricky made another gimme motion, watching as Trevor pouted, but reluctantly reached into his overalls.

"Four nickels, really?" Ricky scoffed, counting the change in his hand before pocketing it.

"And I want your shoes, too cause why not? I've already gone this far." Ricky held out his hand, watching as Trevor sniffled and reluctantly handed over his shoes.

Ricky tied the laces together and tossed the shoes onto the power lines, watching them dangle there as he let out a satisfied sigh, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

"I feel better now~" Ricky muttered, nodding in contentment as he glanced back at Trevor.

"And a word of advice," Ricky added, giving Trevor a light flick on the forehead.

"Get a damn red balloon next time like a f*cking man." Ricky turned away, his voice dripping with amusement as he walked off.

Trevor stood there, rubbing his eyes, while his friend cautiously reappeared from behind a corner, looking at the scene with wide eyes.

"Man, he really shook you down for all you had, I guess the rumors of him losing his touch were rumors after all-"

"Got that right!" Ricky called out with a chuckle, watching as the kid went pale and bolted in the opposite direction, Trevor stumbling after him in pursuit.

Ricky grinned, shaking his head as the chaos unfolded, the brief moment of power leaving him with a sense of satisfaction.

"Okay, now open your eyes Daneille."

*Gasp*

"A pink balloon!" Daneille's eyes had stars in them, taking the pink balloon before Ricky suddenly placed the four nickels on the table.

"Money!" Daneille happily said, reaching out for the nickels as Ricky patted her head.

"Are you ready to go back?" Ricky asked with a smile, watching Danielle bobbing her head up and down as he picked her up.

Walking back to the mansion with a content smile on her face, Danielle's head suddenly jerked to the side after hearing the distinct sound of wings flapping.

Her eyes scanned the sky, narrowing slightly as she searched for the source of the noise, the peacefulness of the moment disrupted by the unfamiliar sound.

"Chester!" Danielle yelled out, her voice filled with excitement as the bird flapped toward her as she embraced him gently, stroking its feathers with her free hand.

"Hello, my little bird," Chester cooed, his tone affectionate as Danielle smiled, feeling a familiar warmth in his presence.

"And it's nice to see you, Ricky," Chester added, turning his gaze to Ricky, who rolled his eyes in response.

"Yeah, good to see you too," Ricky said with a smile, watching as Chester flapped over and landed on his arm.

"Seriously, good to see you." Ricky added, his tone genuine this time as Chester nodded its beak in acknowledgment, the bond between them evident.

"It truly is. How's Alexander holding up?" Chester asked, his tone soft while wondering what his furry familiar in arms was up to as he looked at Ricky.

"Still bad at Go-Fish." Ricky shrugged, Chester nodding with a slight huckle escaping his beak.

"I don't think three years would've made a difference on that front. And Henry?" Chester asked, his words trailing off as a heavy silence settled between them.

"..."

"I-I see." Chester noticed Ricky look away, letting out a sigh before he turned back to him.

"He saved my life by stalling Dracula long enough for me to escape." Ricky revealed, and Chester nodded in understanding and though their relationship hadn't been the best, they still shared a bond of familiarity.

"I wanted to hold a service, but it didn't feel right if you didn't come," Ricky smiled at Chester, who looked slightly surprised before giving him a curious look.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my summoner?" Chester asked, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement.

Ricky opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, Chester turned his gaze elsewhere.

"CHESTER, MY FRIEND, I HAVE RETURNED!" Alexander called out into the night, perched atop Asterion, who waved a greeting to the crow.

"I am Asterion, I've heard a lot about you," Asterion said politely, his deep voice carrying through the night air.

Lucky inhaled sharply, a cold breath escaping him as he processed the strange sight.

Danielle, wide-eyed and clearly fascinated, stared at the duo, her gaze flicking between the talking bull and what she had first assumed was a talking mouse.

"I'm taking Danielle inside," Lucky said firmly, already turning to lead her away.

Danielle, however, reached out toward Asterion, her small hand stretching as if wanting to touch the mystical creature.

"I'll tuck you in later, okay, honey bear?" Ricky called over his shoulder, flashing a reassuring smile at her.

Danielle puffed her cheeks, a bit pouty, but she nodded, her reluctance fading as she followed Lucky inside.

"Am I to assume you've made friends, undead alike?" Chester asked, eyeing Asterion, followed by the small army behind him.

"It's a much longer story," Ricky replied with an anxious laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chester raised an eyebrow, then his gaze shifted lazily to the cat casually laying in Asterion's arms.

"You are?"

"Garfield, the lovable cat," Garfield said, winking at the reader before looking back at Chester, who squinted his eyes in amusement.

"I see there's a lot to love," Chester replied with a witty comment, which made Garfield's ears stand up in slight surprise.

"I'm big boned-"

"No, you're not, that's Garfield. He's a pain in the ass, but he's our pain in the ass."Ricky replied with a grin as Garfield, arms crossed, shot them a look of mild annoyance, as if to make it clear he knew exactly what Ricky meant.

"I better get my lasagna," Garfield grumbled, his tone dripping with the kind of entitlement only a cat could pull off, despite his recent behavior being borderline tolerable, if you could even call it that.

"Anyways Asterion, could you shrink or-" Ricky wondered out loud, seeing that the mansion wouldn't be able to house his mighty figure as Asteiorn nodded.

"I could turn into a human if that would suffice." Asterion gestured, smiling while Ricky gave him a dumb look.

"You could have done that this whole time, why didn't you say something?" Ricky asked, knowing there could've been a lot of places they could've gone that wouldn't have freaked everyone out.

"Well, you didn't ask."

"...."

Asterion then shifted before their eyes, his form rippling as he morphed into a muscular Greek man with striking white hair.

His only garment was a simple cloth draped around his waist, leaving his chiseled physique on full display as he stood tall, exuding an aura of strength and ancient power.

"Chuck, Boney. Chester will guide you to the basement, where you'll stay until I figure out what to do with you," Ricky ordered, his tone firm.

The skeletons exchanged glances, their hollow eyes locking on Chester, who let out a long sigh.

"Fine, fine," Chester muttered, clearly unamused, but resigned to the task.

"Follow me."

Now left with only them, they walked into the house, where Esmerelda was cooking up a storm in the kitchen.

"Oh, bambino, sit, sit!" Esmerelda gestured eagerly, her hands covered in flour as she worked over the stove.

Ricky sighed with a smile, stepping over to the counter and sitting down, watching her with fondness as she continued her culinary masterpiece.

Garfield was absolutely enamored, slowly crawling out of Asterion's arms and stretching towards the kitchen.

His eyes locked onto Esmerelda, the woman who would forever be his favorite on this entire planet.

He wiped his eyes dramatically, as if to say he was on the verge of tears, and slowly padded toward her, his stubby legs barely keeping up with his enthusiasm.

"I'm home."

"Slick." Lucky called from the stairs, his voice sharp, cutting through the air. Ricky glanced up, a strange feeling settling in his chest.

"Yeah?" Ricky responded, his tone a little cautious as he started to walk up, but instead of waiting, Lucky turned and headed straight for his office.

Ricky followed, still unsure of the tension hanging between them. As he stepped into the room, he noticed the air felt heavy, thick with unspoken words as Lucky stood by his desk, his eyes fixed on Ricky with a look that was unreadable.

"It's about Jake, he's missing." Lucky finally came clean, looking at Ricky who was momentarily frozen before his rage boiled over.

"WHAT!?" Ricky yelled, his voice echoing through the room as he stormed over to Lucky, his frustration boiling over.

*BAM*

Ricky slammed his fist against the desk, a slight crack forming while causing the papers scattered across it to flutter slightly.

"Who was it! Was it the Gambino family or the-"

"It's not any family, it's complicated-"

"Then explain it to me. Where the hell is Jake?" Ricky demanded, his voice low and dangerous as he stormed over to Lucky.

His rage was palpable, and the desk groaned under the pressure of his hands, splintering slightly as he gripped it.

Lucky raised an eyebrow but didn't flinch, his eyes sharp as he assessed the situation.

"After you left, Jake was under a lot of pressure to not only prove himself to the family but to prove himself to you, and to cope with the stress, he turned to substances." Lucky continued, his words cutting through the air, freezing Ricky's entire body in place.

"What?" Ricky's eyes widened in shock, while Lucky pressed his hands together tightly.

"The kid only mixed with cocaine at first, which we overlooked since all of us take a dab once and a while, but then he went deeper into the rabbit hole and started messing with heroin." Lucky's words hit Ricky like a wave of guilt, he couldn't shake the feeling that, in some way, he was entirely responsible.

It had been Ricky who urged Jake all those years ago, but more than anything, it was his influence that had pushed Jake deeper into the rabbit hole, now buried under the weight of the addiction that consumed him.

"I'm sorry Slick but he crumbled, it's not your fault." Lucky patted his shoulder as Ricky silently stood there.

"The same pressure that creates diamonds is the same that can shatter concrete." Lucky voiced out, trying to ease Ricky who covered his face.

Instead of feeling guilt, Ricky erupted into almost hysterical laughter, quickly covering his eyes as if trying to block out the reality and Lucky remained silent, watching him without a word.

"I was going to come get you to tell you I wanted to make a move regarding the families, but this takes priority." Ricky suddenly turned away, heading for the door as Lucky reached out.

"Slick, wait-"

"A Luciano never turns their back on one of their own. You were the one who always told me that," Ricky said, pointing at Lucky as the man swallowed his own words, letting out a deep sigh.

*SIGH*

"Slick, it's not that simple. Everyone in the family has been looking for him. Even Meyer took time off to help, but the kid just vanished," Lucky said, gesturing to Ricky, emphasizing that it wasn't as straightforward as he was making it seem.

"Don't worry, I'll find him, but I'll need a key to his house." Ricky coughed up, Lucky sighing before ruffling through his desk since Meyer had given him one to check in on Jake from time to time.

"What was the move?" Lucky suddenly asked, his pace of searching continuing but looking up at Ricky.

"I wanted to know the closest confidants of heads." Ricky walked over, watching Lucky find a mess of keys while going through each and every one.

"Because?"

"Because when I take everything from them, I don't want anything swept under the rug, I don't want them to hide a single asset from me." Ricky's eyes were cold, remembering the words Profaci told him about the families kicking him out.

"I'm taking everything from them, and I'm not leaving a single breadcrumb for their f*cking families." Ricky spat, his eyes burning with menace and Lucky met his gaze, silently handing over the key.

Although it wasn't the kind of length he'd usually go to, Lucky didn't try to stop him.

Everyone has their line, the point where they know they've gone too far and every man, especially those in the underworld, has to draw that line for themselves.

But those lines didn't exist for bosses, for those at the top, those who had to cross boundaries for both moral and immoral gains.

Profit was profit; it wasn't as simple as good or bad.

The only thing that mattered for a family was success, and the boss had to do whatever it took to ensure they were elevated even higher because stagnation was unacceptable.

Lucky was his own boss, but he also understood that Ricky was his own boss as well.

Someone who needed to develop, to iron out his own path, regardless of whether he agreed or not.

"I'll see to it."

10 minutes later,

Ricky arrived at the lone two-story house, the dim light of the evening casting long shadows across the broken landscape.

As he stepped inside, the full extent of Jake's fall hit him like a wave as the place was destroyed, furniture overturned, walls scuffed and scarred, as though seventeen grown men had unleashed all their fury in a vicious battle, tearing the space apart in a frenzy.

But it wasn't the wreckage that stopped Ricky in his tracks as his gaze drifted to the wall, where a picture hung crookedly. It was from three years ago, a time that felt both distant and painfully close.

Ricky, Rocco, Eddy, and Jake, all of them smiling, caught in a moment before everything had shattered.

Before the choices, before the gruesome events, before the struggles.

Ricky's frown deepened, not because of the destruction around him, but because of that damn picture.

It was a ghost from a time when things were simpler, or at least, he'd believed they were.

"Dammit, Jake," Ricky muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over. He stormed up the stairs, pushed open the bathroom door, and grabbed a stray hair from his comb.

Ricky's eyes narrowed as he examined it, not at the hair but at the figure who had been following him this whole time.

Then, just as he turned to set the comb down, a shadow flickered in the corner of his vision as it moved slowly, deliberately, creeping toward him.

Ricky moved silently, slipping toward the side and staying just out of sight so that it forced the figure to come closer.

The figure, aware of this movement, continued creeping forward, its gaze fixed on the spot where Ricky had vanished.

As it turned to where he should have been, it froze, a chill running down its spine as Ricky wasn't in front of him, but right behind him, standing silently in the shadows, a predator waiting for the right moment.

"Five words, all you get before I slice your throat," Ricky, who had successfully blended into the shadows, hissed out as his voice low and menacing, causing the figure to immediately raise their hands in surrender.

"S-Slick, it's me, Meyer!" Meyer stammered, his voice shaking and Ricky froze, recognition hitting him like a wave as he slowly lowered the dagger.

"Holy sh*t, Uncle Meyer, how have you been?" Ricky muttered, his voice filled with surprise and relief.

He turned the ragged man around and pulled him into a tight hug, the tension between them finally easing.

"I would've been better if you were Jake." Meyer let out a tired laugh, patting Ricky's back before the latter backed up.

"Sorry bout sneaking up on you, I just thought you were Jake and I-"

"No, no, don't apologize." Ricky held up his hand, stopping Meyer who felt guilty.

"If anything, it's my fault for pulling a knife on you-"

"No, no, it's my fault for sneaking up on you." Meyer held up his hand this time, stopping Ricky who felt guilty.

"....."

"Are you looking for Jake too?" Meyer asked, watching as Ricky placed the hair into a strange black orb. Ricky nodded without hesitation.

"Yeah, I feel like I have an obligation to find him, get him straight." Ricky confessed, his voice heavier than he expected.

The weight of responsibility pressed down on him as Meyer shook his head slowly, a look of concern crossing his face.

"No, Slick, it's my fault, I pushed him too hard when you left and then one day, he just snapped." Meyer said, walking over to the toilet and sitting on it, pulling out a cigarette.

"I wanted him to fly higher, but-"

"Like Icarus, he flew too close to the sun." Ricky sighed as Meyer raised an eyebrow, then chuckled, patting Ricky's shoulder.

"Long story, funny story, which I'll tell you later when we go find Jake." Ricky said, waving him off. Meyer quickly shot to his feet.

"You found him?!" Meyer asked, his voice full of shock as Ricky began slowly moving the orb, the arrow pointing in an odd direction.

"Yeah and he's-.....below?"

20 minutes later,

Instead of searching the surface, Ricky and Meyer found themselves deep in the sewers, Jake hidden beneath the city's chaotic streets.

They navigated through the labyrinth of tunnels of the New York sewer system, the stench thick in the air as they moved.

After twisting and turning through narrow passageways, they stumbled into a fully functioning underground city, an unexpected, gritty world where the homeless had built their own community, thriving in the shadows far from the city above.

"Woah, did you know this even existed?" Ricky whispered to Meyer, both of them equally stunned by the sight before them.

"No idea," Meyer replied, shaking his head while Ricky stepped further in, and as he did, the eyes of the residents slowly shifted toward him, a mix of curiosity and wariness in their gaze.

"Ricky Luciano, what a pleasant surprise," a man's voice called out from the crowd of homeless figures. He emerged from the cluster, his steps confident as he made his way toward Ricky as the latter raised an eyebrow, sizing the man up, his instincts immediately on edge.

"Hey-....you." Ricky said smoothly, playing it cool. The man laughed, a dry, knowing sound.

"Don't worry, Slick. I wouldn't expect you to know me, seeing as the deal with the high table hasn't been completed yet." The homeless man gestured for Ricky and Meyer to follow him.

They walked into a small shack, the walls worn and the air thick with the scent of must.

At the far end of the room, a rickety desk sat, its surface poorly repaired as the man slid into the chair behind it, then gestured for them to sit across from him.

"Please, would you like some water? Perhaps some tea?" The man offered, his voice smooth but laced with a hint of mock politeness and Ricky shook his head, his focus sharp as he kept his gaze fixed on the man.

"No, uh-"

"Just call me the Bowery King."

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