Page 62 of Of Vows and Betrayal

The devil, or ratherIl Mietitore as he’s known within all Mafia circles, Rafaele Lucchese—one of the few men powerful enough to make the Gambinos retreat.

I stop at the high-end club I know is his usual headquarters and walk to the side entrance.

“It’s closed. Come back at ten,” the surly guard at the entrance growls, stepping directly into my path.

“Is Rafaele Lucchese here? I need him; it’s urgent.”

He looks at me silently, not moving from the spot.

“Tell him that Javier Vargas is here to see him. Trust me, he’d like to know.”

The man keeps staring at me, and I’m about to speak again when he presses the button on his earpiece.

“A certain Javier Vargas is here for the boss,” he says gruffly.

I notice from the corner of my eye that the camera abovethe door moves, and I look straight at it.

A couple of minutes later, the guard at the door nods and steps aside. The heavy metal doors creak open, revealing another guard waiting on the other side. The cold air from inside hits me like a wave, heightening my sense of foreboding as I step into the darkness beyond.

“Mr. Lucchese will see you now.”

I follow him down the dark corridor, up the stairs to a door guarded by two men.

“Go in. Mr. Lucchese is waiting.”

I take a deep breath, stand straight, and force myself to project confidence. Inside, my heart pounds with desperation. I know this is my last chance—my only chance—to save Ophelia. Failure here could cost me everything, including the woman I love.

The office is a reflection of the man behind it—dark, sleek, and meticulously ordered. Black leather chairs, a polished mahogany desk, and shelves lined with ominous artifacts give the room a cold, calculated feel. Tall and lean, Rafaele Lucchese stands by the window, surveying his domain with a calm, calculating gaze. His dark eyes, sharp and penetrating, seem to see through every facade. His hair, a deep onyx, frames a face marked by an aquiline nose and high cheekbones. Despite his pale complexion, there’s an undeniable allure to him, a magnetic presence that commands attention. But I’m not fooled by his lean physique. His movements are fluid and precise, like a predator ready to strike at any moment. The stories of his marksmanship—how he never misses a shot—flash through my mind, reminding me of the danger and the allure he embodies.

“AlejandroReyes,” he says, flicking the silver lighter open and closed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I haven’t been Alejandro for a long time.”

He shrugs, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips, his eyes calculating. “Perhaps, but it’s the side of you I always admired—the nobody who dared to make the Gambinos shake so many years ago.”

“And who paid dearly for his foolish ambition.”

“Everyone wants to rule the world, but very few can live with the consequences of doing so.” He walks to his seat with a grace that belies his lethal reputation, sitting down and gesturing for me to take the seat across from him.

“There was a time you asked me to help you,” I remind him. “You wanted me to join your team as a member of Synco Securities.”

His smile is cold, emotionless. “As the owner of Synco Securities, I’ve done my research, Mr. Vargas, and your ownership may be hard to find but not impossible.” He flicks the Zippo open and closed with a calculated rhythm, the metallic clicks echoing in the silence. “Let’s not waste time denying what I already know. My patience is thin, Mr. Vargas, and trust me, you do not want to see what happens when I lose it.”

“Very well. You wanted my services as the owner of Synco.”

“Better.” Rafaele nods his approval. “And you turned me down if I remember correctly. Something that doesn’t happen often.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh, have you now?” He leans back on his chair, steepling his long fingers under his chin. “What is it you need?”

“Ophelia Bergotti is getting married to Dario Carmine. I need you to help me stop it.”

He scoffs. “Wow, you don’t come with something small, do you?”

“Well, you’re the fearsome Rafaele Lucchese, aren’t you? If anyone can pull it off safely, it’s you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Stroking my ego now? You must be quite desperate.” He sighs. “It’s frowned upon to mettle in other Mafia business.”

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