How Lilies turn Black Chapter 50 - The Blood Bath (7)

That was when Theodoro began picking up guns and knives.  

 

“I had to avenge my mother… and I couldn’t lose my father and brother—the only ones I had left.”  

 

And he had good allies—Grace and Ian, the couple who ran Grace Bar.  

 

Having survived the chaos of war, they came to Favona Island in Vittorio’s stead.  

 

They hadn’t agreed to train him right away. In fact, Ian had flatly refused Theodoro’s desperate plea to make him stronger.  

 

He didn’t want the boy to exhaust his life on revenge, only to lose all purpose once it was over.  

 

But Theodoro was just as stubborn.  

 

“Ian warned me over and over, but I refused to back down… and in the end, I got what I wanted.”  

 

The retired former intelligence agents set up a small training ground in the secluded woods of Favona Island and began teaching him.  

 

“Faster! Too slow!”  

 

“N-no—”  

 

“You think enemies will wait for you to aim and shoot?”  

 

“Wait, am I going to war or something?”  

 

“Shut up and fire!”  

 

Some days, he had to practice shooting until his arms felt like falling off. 

 

Other days, he had to run through the woods for hours.  

 

And on some days, he spent from dawn till dusk stabbing a flour sack stuffed with cotton.  

 

Under their strict guidance, he grew stronger day by day. Nearly four years passed in the blink of an eye.  

 

“I returned to Demercy at twenty.”  

 

The gloomy, lonely boy who used to trail behind his mother was gone. 

 

In his place stood a cynical, brooding young man—his rare smiles now completely erased.  

 

But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. His once-average height had shot up, surpassing most men around him…  

 

And his once-lanky frame had filled out with thick muscle, giving him the build of a formidable man.

 

Meanwhile, Demercy hadn’t changed much. 

 

The Benedetti family was still embroiled in their war with the Chavone family.  

 

So, what was Luciano doing at the time?  

 

Having graduated from university, he fully immersed himself in the family business, intending to take over his father’s empire.  

 

Unlike Theodoro, who sought to fight with his fists, Luciano waged war in his own way.  

 

“We complemented each other from our respective positions to support our father.”  

 

Yet, those days remained precarious and filled with unease.  

 

“The end wasn’t easily decided, and the conflict dragged on longer than expected. Father was growing weary… and by then, even the Demercy Mafia Commission began pressuring him. If things continued like this, it was only a matter of time before the entire underworld would face the scrutiny of law enforcement.”  

 

Everyone knew it had to end.  

 

And then, in June 1953, on a warm, sunny day—The war finally seemed to be reaching its conclusion.  

 

Only, it wasn’t the ending Theodoro had hoped for.  

 

Once again, God did not favor him, choosing Chavone as the glorious victor instead.  

 

“If things had unfolded similarly to when my mother passed, I could’ve stepped in and stopped it somehow. Every day, I imagined how I would’ve handled it if I could go back.”  

 

But Vittorio’s death happened in a way he could never have prevented.  

 

“…There was one man Father trusted.”  

 

A man who couldn’t become a formal member of the mafia because he came from the Jordan gang.  

 

Vittorio, who never judged by background, recognized his exceptional intellect and kept him close.  

 

For nearly a decade, he had loyally served as a subordinate, supporting the family’s business.  

 

Yes, a loyal subordinate…  

 

That’s what everyone believed.  

 

A cold smirk flickered across Theodoro’s lips as he recalled those times.  

 

“No one could’ve predicted he’d defect to Chavone’s side.”  

 

“Ahh…”  

 

Liliana let out a quiet sigh.  

 

Now the puzzle pieces fell into place. No one acts without purpose or motive…  

 

“So that’s why Senior Luciano…”

 

She couldn’t continue speaking, but in her place, Theodoro calmly finished the sentence.  

 

“Yeah, that’s why my brother hates other immigrant groups like an idiot. Liliana Moretti.”  

 

“…”  

 

“Now you see what you’ve messed with?”  

 

Lilia couldn’t bring herself to answer and only bowed her head deeply.  

 

“…I understand him. The betrayal must have been unbearable. Unlike me, he spent most of his time with our father, watching them both from the closest distance.”  

 

Though she didn’t say it aloud, she agreed with that sentiment.  

 

Had she known she’d hear this story, she would’ve prepared herself better. A bitter taste pooled under her tongue.  

 

Lilia didn’t want to understand the Benedettis—whether it was Theodoro or Luciano. She didn’t even want to hear a story that might make her sympathize.  

 

Because if she learned their circumstances, she might hesitate, even just a little, in driving them apart.  

 

Cruelly, it seemed Theodoro’s story wasn’t over yet.  

 

“…Anyway, the organization lost its leader, and we had to decide our next move.”  

 

Just as the war they had fought came to an end, his story, too, was gradually reaching its conclusion.  

 

“The day of my father’s funeral, everything was decided.”  

 

Theodoro and Luciano stood silently before the grave long after the service ended. The sun was setting, casting a crimson glow across the late afternoon.  

 

Luciano swallowed his bitterness as he fixed his eyes on his father’s name engraved on the tombstone.  

 

“The Benedetti family… has lost its Benedetti.”  

 

Could there be any words more sorrowful than that?  

 

Emptiness, self-loathing, grief—all these negative emotions were now familiar to Theodoro, so instead, he stared at Luciano as if he felt nothing at all.  

 

“What will you do?”  

 

“…I’ll protect it. By becoming the new Benedetti.”  

 

It was a firm answer. As if no other choice existed, his eyes were already filled with certainty, unwavering.  

 

That was exactly what Theodoro had expected.

 

Even before things unfolded this way, my brother had always believed his future lay with Benedetti. He was a man who lived solely for that purpose.  

 

Yet the words that followed were far from what Theodoro had expected.  

 

“I think the reason we’ve ended up here is none other than our father’s weak heart.”  

 

“What?”  

 

“As he grew older, he lost all the fire he had in his youth.”  

 

Theodoro’s eyes flashed coldly at the words, which sounded almost like blame toward their father.  

 

He raised his thick brows, glaring at Luciano. Was this really something to say in front of their father’s grave?  

 

His voice, low and warning, was directed at Luciano.  

 

“That was because Father… had more to protect than before.”  

 

He had no other choice. The harder he pushed back, the more Chavone tightened the noose, using those with his blood as leverage.  

 

He could have retaliated against Chavone’s men, but for every life he took, another would have been lost from the Benedetti family.  

 

Until one side, choking back tears, was forced to surrender completely.  

 

Surprisingly, Luciano nodded without resistance, agreeing.  

 

“Right. Just like how we lost Mother, he must have feared losing us—or the rest of our family.”  

 

Then, without a flicker of hesitation, he met Theodoro’s gaze.  

 

“I’m not blaming him. I’m just saying we should consider if there was a better way.”  

 

“…”  

 

“Father was so focused on protecting those around him that he failed to protect himself. And now, we lost our leader overnight, almost getting devoured by Chavone. If he had been bold from the start, willing to sacrifice a few, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”  

 

A strange light flickered in Theodoro’s eyes before they narrowed slowly.  

 

He understood what Luciano meant. And though he couldn’t fault his brother’s conviction… empathy was another matter.  

 

‘I never thought my own brother would say something like this.’

 

Luciano had countless followers and was always revered in a warm, cheerful atmosphere. 

 

Who would have thought that such a man would so readily declare his willingness to sacrifice those who supported him?  

 

‘Brother, why…?’ 

 

Theodoro stared at him before turning his head away with a gesture mixed with irritation and resignation.  

 

He had no desire to engage in a tiresome argument over their clashing values—not in front of their deceased father, and certainly not on the very day of his funeral.  

 

As Theodoro stood silently, staring at the floor in distress, Luciano’s unfazed voice reached him.  

 

“So, what do you plan to do?”  

 

At the question, Theodoro exhaled deeply and tilted his head back.  

 

“Hah…”  

 

Even setting aside their earlier disagreement over principles, the two had always held fundamentally different stances when it came to the organization.  

 

Theodoro had never been as attached to the family as his brother, nor had he ever harbored ambitions of securing a high position within it.  

 

But that didn’t mean he had chosen to walk a completely different path.  

 

‘I can’t just hand the family over to Chavone either.’  

 

The Benedetti Family carried the legacy of his mother and father’s entire lives.  

 

If even that was lost, their lives—their very existence—would vanish without a trace, as if they had never been.  

 

So, for Theodoro, the answer had already been decided.