The De Luca Heir

7: Shadows of the past

The hallway erupted into chaos as more men stormed in, their shouts and gunfire echoing off the walls. Anthony moved on autopilot, ducking and firing as Victor directed him through the melee. He didn’t feel the pain of his grazed arm or the ringing in his ears. All that mattered was survival.

A sharp whistle cut through the noise, and Anthony turned to see Jake barreling through the side door, wielding a shotgun. “Thought you could use some backup!” Jake shouted, blasting an attacker who had crept up behind Victor.

Victor nodded curtly. “About time. Hold the west wing! You're so good, kid. Where did you learn that?”

Jake ignored him and motioned to Anthony. “You good, kid?”

Anthony didn’t answer, his focus locked on the next wave of intruders. They moved with precision, their formation tighter, their aim deadlier. These weren’t grunts. These were the professionals Victor had warned about.

Victor cursed under his breath. “This is Felix’s message. He’s not just testing you—he’s trying to end you before you even start.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched. He had let Felix humiliate him once, but not again. Not now.

“Let’s move.” Victor said, signaling toward the staircase. “They’ll box us in if we stay here.”

Anthony followed, adrenaline surging as they ascended to the second floor. The higher vantage point gave them a clear view of the front yard, where Felix’s men continued to pour in. But something else caught Anthony’s eye—a sleek black car idling just beyond the gate.

“Victor.” he said, pointing. “Who’s that?”

Victor glanced out the window, his expression unreadable. “Allies. For now.”

Before Anthony could question further, an explosion rocked the mansion, shaking the floor beneath them. The blast sent debris raining down, and Anthony stumbled, barely catching himself on the banister.

“They’ve breached the garage!” Jake shouted from below.

Victor’s face darkened. “Then it’s time we send a message of our own.”

He turned to Anthony, his gaze piercing. “This is your house. Your family’s legacy. Show them why they should fear the name De Luca.”

Anthony’s grip tightened on the pistol. The fear that had gripped him moments ago was gone, replaced by a simmering rage. Felix had brought the fight to his doorstep, and Anthony was done running.

“Let’s end this.” he said, his voice steady.

Victor’s lips curled into a grim smile. “That’s the spirit.”

Anthony isn’t trained for guns and fights, but he really got his bravery from his own bloodline. De Lucas don’t fear anyone.

Together, they moved toward the garage, the air thick with smoke and tension. As they descended, Anthony’s resolve hardened. He didn’t know what kind of man he was becoming, but he knew one thing for certain:

Tonight, the De Luca name would rise again.

As they reached the garage, the black car roared to life, its headlights cutting through the haze. The driver’s door opened, and a tall figure stepped out, their face obscured by the shadows.

“About time you showed up.” Victor said, his tone laced with both relief and irritation.

The figure stepped forward, their voice calm but commanding. “I told you I’d protect the heir. Now, let’s clean this mess up.”

Anthony’s heart stopped as the figure stepped into the light, revealing a face he thought he’d never see again.

“D-Dad?” he uttered.

The word hung in the air, freezing Anthony in place. His grip on the pistol slackened as his father strode into the garage, his presence commanding and radiating authority. Victor’s men immediately stood straighter, their weapons lowering in silent deference.

“Dad?” Anthony repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, a mix of disbelief and confusion.

His father’s piercing gaze locked onto him, unreadable but unyielding. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his presence was a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around them. “Anthony.” he said, his tone calm but heavy with unspoken meaning. “I told Victor to watch over you until you were ready. I didn’t think you’d meet your test this soon.”

Anthony’s stomach churned. “Test? You’ve been alive this whole time? Watching? While I—”

“While you stumbled through life?” his father cut in, his voice sharp but not unkind. “Yes. To see if you had what it takes to carry the De Luca name. And tonight, you’ve shown me you do.”

Anthony’s shock morphed into anger. He took a step forward, the pistol trembling in his hand. “You abandoned me! You left me to fend for myself while you played puppet master? What kind of father does that?”

Victor moved between them, his posture tense. “Anthony, now isn’t the time for this—”

“No.” Anthony snapped, his glare locked on his father. “I deserve answers.”

His father’s expression softened, just slightly. “And you’ll get them. But first, we have a problem to deal with.” He gestured to the SUVs and armed men outside. “Felix made a grave mistake coming here. Let’s show him why.”

Anthony hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He wanted answers, wanted to scream, wanted to walk away. But the sight of Victor and the others looking to him, waiting for his decision, reminded him of what was at stake.

He exhaled sharply, nodding. “Fine. But after this, we’re talking.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his father’s face. “That’s my son.”

Victor handed Anthony a fresh magazine, and they moved to the garage door. The black car’s headlights illuminated the chaos outside. Felix’s men were regrouping, their shouts carrying over the hum of engines.

“Here’s the plan.” Victor said, his tone brisk. “We hit them hard and fast, take out their vehicles, and force them to retreat. Anthony, you stick with me and your father.”

Anthony shot his father a glare. “He’s not my father right now. He’s just another guy with a gun.”

His father chuckled, the sound low and mirthless. “Fair enough.”

The garage door creaked open, revealing the battlefield. Gunfire erupted immediately, bullets pinging off the metal frame. Anthony ducked behind a car, his heart pounding as he returned fire.

“Move up!” Victor shouted, leading the charge.

Anthony followed, his movements instinctive. He took down two attackers, the recoil of the pistol no longer jarring. Beside him, his father moved with precision, each shot purposeful and deadly.

As they pushed forward, a sudden roar split the air. One of Felix’s SUVs exploded, flames licking the sky. Anthony turned to see Jake standing on the mansion’s balcony, a rocket launcher resting on his shoulder.

“Thought you could use a little flair!” Jake called out, grinning.

The tide turned in their favor. Felix’s men faltered, some retreating to their vehicles while others were picked off by Victor’s crew.

But as the dust began to settle, Anthony spotted a figure emerging from one of the SUVs. It was Felix, flanked by two of his men, a smug grin on his face.

“Impressive, Anthony.” Felix called out, spreading his arms. “Didn’t know you had it in you. But let’s see how you handle this.”

He pulled out a detonator, his thumb hovering over the button. “Your move, heir.”

Anthony’s blood ran cold. His father stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “Felix, you don’t want to do this. Walk away while you still can.”

Felix laughed. “Oh, but I do. You see, this isn’t just about territory. It’s personal now. And if I can’t win, I’ll make sure no one does.”

Anthony’s mind raced. The detonator was wired to something, but what? He scanned the scene, his gaze landing on a series of wires leading to the black car.

The car his father had arrived in.

“Dad—”

“I see it.” his father said grimly. “Victor, get the others back. Anthony and I will handle this.”

“No.” Anthony said, stepping forward. “This is my fight.”

His father looked at him, pride flickering in his eyes. “Then prove it.”

As Felix’s thumb moved toward the button, Anthony raised his pistol, his breath steady. He had one shot to end this—and no margin for error.

The garage fell silent, the weight of the moment crushing.

Anthony’s finger tightened on the trigger.

A single shot rang out, but it wasn’t Anthony’s.

“Dad!"