Page 37 of Lucky

Dante ‘The Saint’ Accardi. There’s absolutely nothing saintly about the man standing stoically at the head of the table. His name alone carries weight in rooms where power is currency and loyalty is a fragile, bloody thread. I’ve studied men like him all my life, but none of them hold a candle to the sheer force of nature that he embodies. To some, he’s the devil incarnate, a man who rose to power by walking over the broken bodies ofthose who opposed him. To others, he’s a savior—a man who brings order where there is chaos, even if it means ruling with an iron fist. To me? He’s a complication I can’t afford to ignore.

I try to reconcile the man I’m looking at with what I know about him. He wasn’t always the ruthless kingpin who commands armies with a glance. At one time, the man with the soulful eyes and a voice that could soothe the hardest heart used to kneel in prayer, seeking guidance and redemption. He used to be a man of God, serving the church. He was actively saving souls—until the world demanded he save his family instead.

His older brother, Rollo, was meant to carry the burden of their father’s empire. Dante would have been free to pursue his calling, to live a life untouched by the blood and violence that defined the Accardi name. But fate had other plans. When Rollo was gunned down in an ambush, Dante had no choice but to hang up his collar and step into the role he’d never wanted. The priest became the boss, and in doing so, he traded salvation for retribution.

If that were all there was to Dante, he’d be like so many other men in our world. But he’s not. His story took another turn, one that cemented his legend—and his infamy.

Kingsley Murray. She was supposed to be nothing more than a pawn in his game, a tool to exact vengeance against her father. The elder Murray had something the Accardis wanted, and Dante’s response was swift and brutal. He kidnapped Kingsley, intending to use her as leverage. When Kingsley was taken from him in turn—abducted by another faction that sought to exploit the chaos Dante had created—he didn’t abandon her. He didn’t see her as expendable.

He rescued her.

And somewhere in the chaos of betrayal and bloodshed, they fell in love. A love born of fire and steel, forged in the crucible of their shared survival. When they finally emerged from thestorm, they weren’t just husband and wife. They were partners. Their marriage wasn’t just a union of hearts but a merger of empires. Together, they created one of the most formidable mafia families the world has ever seen.

With Kingsley at his side, his reach extends farther than any of us can imagine. He doesn’t just control his territory; he owns it, body and soul. His alliances are ironclad, his enemies either annihilated or cowed into submission. And now, with the Vicci family on the verge of imploding, he’s the one man who might be able to stop the chaos from consuming us all.

The question is, what price will he demand?

I’ve seen Dante in action. He’s charming, almost disarmingly so, but beneath that polished exterior lies a predator. He’s a man who calculates every move, every word, every smile. You never truly know where you stand with him, which makes him as dangerous as he is effective. If he decides to intervene in the Vicci crisis, it won’t be out of charity or goodwill. It will be because he sees an opportunity to solidify his power. And he’ll take it without hesitation.

As much as I hate to admit it, we need him. The Vicci family is fracturing, and the chaos threatens to engulf everything we’ve built. Dante Accardi has the resources, the influence, and the sheer force of will to bring order to the madness. But relying on him is a gamble. He’s not a man who gives without taking. And when he comes to collect, I know the price will be steep.

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than meets the eye. Beneath the ruthless exterior, beneath the devil’s grin, there’s still a flicker of the boy who once dreamed of saving souls. Maybe that’s why he’s so compelling. Because even now, after everything he’s done, there’s a part of him that believes he can save us all. Or maybe he just wants to prove that he’s the only one who can.

Either way, Dante Accardi is a man you underestimate at your own peril. And as the walls close in around us, I can’t help but wonder: when the time comes, will he be our salvation? Or our undoing?

I stand tall, spine straight, eyes locked forward as I come to a stop in front of him. The air tastes of old cigars, expensive whiskey, and the sharp tang of unspoken animosity. He doesn’t extend his hand to me, so I clasp my hands in front of me and wait before I speak.

His eyes lock onto me the moment I enter the room, and I can feel the weight of his gaze press down on me. He’s flanked by his usual men—tall, broad-shouldered, and silent.

“Jacklyn,” Dante’s voice is smooth, but there is a cold edge to it. “I trust you’re well?”

I give a short nod but don’t speak.

I take my seat as directed and sit to his left, waiting for everyone to take their seats. I catch Lucky Gattis eye across the table, and I don’t miss how he skirts his eyes away quickly, guilt pressed into his features.

Dante’s gaze shifts around the room briefly, his men remaining stoic, their eyes boring into me like they are measuring my very presence. He finally leans forward, his hands clasped together. “You’ve made quite a ruckus lately,” he starts. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve managed to piss off quite a few of the families.”

I don’t even bother to explain that it wasn’t me who created the chaos, because ultimately, the trouble has come about by men who swore their allegiance to my family. Ultimately, this is my cross to bear – I couldn’t control my own family.

“It’s come to our attention that your position is... unstable. The other families are questioning your leadership, your authority. And the truth is, they’ve been talking about replacing you.”

I lean back in my chair, unfazed as I look at him. The pushback against my reign has been building for months. “I’m aware that the behavior of some of my men has left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucky shift in his seat, but I don’t break eye contact with Dante Accardi. There’s no escaping the punishment or ruling that he will mete out today.

He smiles, a humorless expression. “Good. I’m glad you understand my dilemma,” Dante says. “I’m sure you realize that your leadership is leading us into all out war. A war that nobody wants.”

I exhale the sign I’d been holding back, before my head drops to my chest in resignation. There’s nothing I can say to dispute this; he’s absolutely right.

My pulse feels thready when I lift my eyes to him. He’s like my own personal fortune teller, predicting doom and gloom. I’m not scared; I’m pissed. I feel like I’m being cornered on all sides and there’s no-where left to run. But I’m not weak. I’m not going to cower to anyone.

“What exactly do you suggest, Don Accardi?” I say, keeping my voice cool, but there’s no denying the underlying defiance in my tone.

He pauses for a moment, studying me, before he drops his bombshell. “I’ve met with the five families. There is, unfortunately, a lot of opposition to your rule.”

“You can change that,” I’m quick to tell him. He holds up a hand, silencing me.

“If I could change that, I would have. Seattle has already extended its protection to you, but it hasn’t stopped the dissension.”

---