Around his gang, they recognized Jaesung for being a fuckup. It shouldn’t shock him that Luca was indeed the Heir, the young master, the known ruthless, psychotic mobster. Jaesung knew he signed his death warrant, and all that remained for Luca was to sign that dotted line. He was endlessly stuck in a loop of tripping over his own feet, unable to get ahead.

“What? Is there nothing you want to say to me?” Jaesung stood still as Luca advanced. “That was my favorite suit you ruined, by the way.”

Jaesung tried to reply, but the words stayed stuck in his throat. The sweat under his armpits revealed how he really suffered, like an animal, cornered and up for slaughter.

“I have yet to receive the money you owe me. Now, I think it’s time to collect.” He stopped in front of Jaesung, his hazel eyes piercing through him. A calloused hand roughly grabbed his chin, forcing Jaesung to look him dead in the eyes.

“Luca.”

That word ended up being his saving grace, for with a light shove, it freed him from his grasp.

The other man stepped forward and grabbed the wine glass. “We don’t have much time.”

“Always ruining my fun.” Luca’s lips turned down into a pout. “Have a seat, Jaesung.”

Still wary of what they were planning, Jaesung sat at the edge of the couch they motioned to. He figured he was in deep shit. Everyone in the minor family heard the tall tales of how unhinged the young heir acted. Just inciting his fury was all it took to send you to an early grave.

Giovanni pocketed his knife and sipped on the wine. His face bore the expression of indifference, yet Jaesung felt the weight of his presence.

Luca plopped down next to Jaesung, legs near enough that he could feel the heat flowing from them. It took all of his willpower to not turn his head away. Being uncomfortable was an understatement.

“It’s time for you to really become one of us.” Luca reached for Jaesung’s hands and unfolded them. If he noticed the trickle of blood from them, he kept quiet. “Time for you to make one’s bones, or so they saying goes.”

“You want me to…?” Jaesung’s mind blanked. The reality of why he was called there sunk in.

Giovanni handed Luca a gun, a sleek black Colt M1911. “Are you sure about this?”

Luca put up his hand. “Not now.”

Their conversation went beyond his understanding as he stared at the lethal weapon mere inches away. He was a soldier, a gangster of the lowest caliber. He never even held a gun before. Was he expected to use it? Instead of being thrilled at the prospect of being made, his stomach lurched.

“What are you going to do, Jaesung?” asked Luca. He placed the gun in his open palms, wrapping his fingers around it.

Jaesung understood he had no choice. He publically embarrassed the heir. He either took the weapon and did what he was told, or die right where he stood. The mafia did not allow you to choose. You made that decision when you joined their ranks, whether they fully prepared you for what that called for or not.

“I’ve never used a gun before.” Jaesung had never steeled himself for this moment.

“Time to get some practice in before your big day.” A heavy hand slapped his shoulder. “If not, you may be the one who sees the end of the barrel.”