19. Luca
Chapter nineteen
Luca
I’m standing in the grand ballroom of Marcus Blackwood’s spacious mansion, flooded with guests.
The environment is filled with the soft hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the distant thrum of music.
Marcus, one of my new allies, is playing the gracious host, charming and affable, but I know better. Under the surface, he’s a ruthless drug lord I’ve heard tales about since my return.
A lot had changed in the city dynamics during those three years, I’m aware. Now, I’m gathering the right allies that will be loyal to me and serve their purpose. It’s all business and has been part of my plans for the past three years.
The security is tight, given the nature of our business. Some of my men are stationed at the doors, and Marcus has his goons discreetly placed around the perimeter. I’m not having any fucking surprises again.
Marcus approaches me with a smarmy smile plastered on his face. “Luca, it’s so great to finally meet you in person!” He extends a hand, but I hesitate before I take it.
One lesson I’ve learned in this business is never to trust anyone.
“Marcus,” I reply, my voice firm. I don’t let the handshake linger a second more. “It is my pleasure. Wonderful party.” My wine glass is almost empty as I gesture to the room with my right hand. “Care for some more wine? Or do you want something stronger?”
His bald head reflects the lightning in the room. He looks about my father’s age but with more wrinkles on his face and an axe tattoo on the side of his throat.
“Don’t bother.” He chuckles and gestures to the girl beside him. “I wanted to introduce you to my eldest daughter, Lana. Lana, this is Luca.”
Her red hair is flowing down part of her shoulder while the rest falls down her back. The tight red dress she has on reveals some cleavage. Her green eyes are absolutely seductive.
I take her hand and place a kiss on it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lana.”
Her lips curve into a full smile, revealing her whitened teeth. “The pleasure is mine.” She doesn’t take her eyes off me as I let go of her hand and turn to her father.
“Marcus, if we may, I’d like to get straight into business.”
“Ah, Luca, always the charmer,” he says with a chuckle. “Definitely!”
With that cue, Lana excuses herself. Just what I needed. I can’t have her as a distraction.
“Let's find a more private place to discuss,” Marcus says as he grabs my arm, pulling me closer. Just before we reach the center of the room, he is hijacked by another business associate I do not know.
“Marcus! I’ve been searching everywhere for you,” the stranger says as he pulls him into a hug. Marcus returns the gesture. “Hey, Viktor! Good to see you, my friend!"
“Give me a moment, Luca. I will be right back.”
Marcus excuses himself and goes into the crowd with his friend.
Still standing alone, sipping fine wine and looking at the party with disinterested, half-opened eyes, Sterling approaches me. He leans in close, his voice barely audible over the music and chatter.
“The shipment was attacked and seized by some unknown men,” he whispers in my ear.
My eyes fly wide open, my grip on the wine glass tightening until the glass shatters as I struggle to process what I’ve just heard. This calls a few people's attention to us but I just ignore them.
I’m filled with anger and confusion, my mind racing with questions. Who dared to attack me?
I turn to Sterling, my voice low. “Follow me,” I growl, already moving towards a quiet hallway, away from the noise and all the prying eyes. I need some answers, and I need them right now.
As we step into the hallway, I round on Sterling. “What do you mean the shipment was attacked? Who did this?”
“We don’t know. This is the third time it’s happened recently and...” he realizes he’s just angered me as his words trail off.
“What the hell do you mean the third time?” I ask, my voice hissing. My eyes narrow on him.
He stammers out a response, taking a step backwards. “I-I didn’t mention I thought we could recover them before you found out. Someone’s messing with us.”
I take a pause. I haven’t been cooped away for three years just to lose my anger and destroy it all, but it’s taking everything in me not to smash his head against something. “You’re telling me that our shipments have been getting hijacked, and you didn’t think it was worth mentioning?”
Just as I’m about to unleash my anger, pressing harder on his neck, some guests wander into the hallway, ignorant of what is happening.
I force a sly smile. It’s a cold one that sends a shiver down Sterling’s spine as I release my grip on his neck.
He gasps for air, his eyes still wide with fear.
I lean in close, my voice a whisper. “We’re not done here, Sterling. You’d better have some answers for me, or so help me...” I trail off, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air.
As the guests pass by, I keep the smile plastered on my face, pretending everything is fine.
As the guests depart, I turn to Sterling, my eyes drained of their earlier intensity but still simmering with a low-grade irritation. I don’t have the energy to keep up the act, to pretend that everything is fine when it’s not. I turn and walk away, my movements mechanical, my mind already elsewhere.
I make my way through the party, the sea of faces blurring as I leave behind the forced smiles and empty laughter. My men fall in step behind me. We reach the front door, and I push through it, out into the cool night air.
Marcus calls out after me, his voice cautious, “Luca, wait! What's going on?”
One of my men intercepts him, saying a firm but polite, “I’m afraid it’s none of your business, Marcus.”
I raise a finger to stop him from sending Marcus back. We haven’t had the chance to discuss business and Marcus is one of my key players in this game. Unlike most of the gang leaders around, he can be counted on. Not those backstabbing losers. I need to seal a deal with him.
“Let him through.”
Marcus glares at my man before he joins me in my car. My man shuts the door.
“Is everything alright, Luca?” His eyes are full of concern as he stares at me. His fingers settled on his knees.
I clear my throat. “Nothing to worry about, Marcus.”
“Alright then.”
“We can discuss our unfinished business right here. We have all the privacy we need.”
His eyes flicker toward my men in the front seat.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I say reassuringly.
He nods in response.
“Your coke is stronger than the rest on the market. It has less impurities.”
“Ah yes,” he grins wide. “My supplies come from a friend in Bolivia. They make the finest coke.”
“I want it.”
“It's more expensive than anything sold around here, Luca. More quality means more soldi (money).”
“That wouldn’t be a problem, Marcus. Let me know when the next shipment arrives.”
“Just how much are we talking about?”
“About a ton.”
He adjusts in his seat and stares at me.
“That is... that is quite a lot, Luca.”
“I’m about to take back the city. I need to have the good stuff stocked in my warehouses to meet my clients' demands.”
“Fair enough. Although I’m not certain if I can handle that much, seeing as how you just returned to the game.”
I rest my palm on his left knee and squeeze lightly. “You’re a smart man, Marcus. I’m sure you’ll find a way. Right?”
“Yes. I will,” he nods in response.
“Good.”
I remove my fingers from his knee.
“Cheers to our business together.” He stretches his hand toward me.
I shake in return, firmly holding his hand before I let go.
“I should get back to the party. I’ll stay in contact with you, Luca De Santi.”
I hit the window glass to alert my man outside. The door opens immediately and Marcus makes his way out.
I’ll have one of my men watching him. I need to stay ahead of them. He’ll have to think twice before daring to double-cross me.
I leave the party and go straight to the warehouse, my men and associates waiting in their cars, the headlights casting an eerie glow on the surrounding walls. The cars form a semi-circle, trapping us in a cover of steel.
I step into the center, my cigar clenched between my teeth, and take a long, heavy drag. The smoke billows out, hanging in the air, before it finally dissipates.
I chuckle lowly before asking the question that’s on everyone’s mind. “Which family is responsible for this?”
Nobody says a word.
The silence is oppressive, a weight that presses down on us all. My men and associates exchange uneasy glances, their faces lit only by the faint glow of the headlights. They know better than to speak out of turn and to offer any information that might be construed as disloyal.
I puff on my cigar again, the smoke curling upwards. Seeing as nobody is saying anything, I leave the warehouse, my anger refusing to subside.
“Find me who the fuck is messing with my products and fucking kill them. All of them.”
I can’t bear the thought of failing, having come this far—planned this long. My fists clench so tightly that my knuckles become numb.
I reach my car, and I can literally feel the tension oozing off me.
“Drive,” I instruct my driver as I slide into the backseat.
Another shipment has vanished right under my nose. They must think I’m weak. Someone’s messing with me and heaven knows they’re going to fucking regret it. I’m at my wit’s end; my patience is worn thin.
I can feel the tension building in my head, my temples throbbing with a dull ache. I rub them, trying to ward off the headache that’s brewing.
Vito approaches me as I arrive home. His movements are quiet and subservient as I get out of the car and walk towards my house.
“I want to be left alone.”
His eyes are turned downward, as if he’s trying to apologize as he turns deaf ears to my words. He hands me my phone, his hands shaking slightly.
“Someone’s been trying to reach you, sir,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I look at the phone, uninterested. “I don’t care,” I growl, waving my hand dismissively. “Tell them to fuck off.”
Vito nods and scurries away, but he’s back moments later, phone in hand. “I’m sorry, sir, but they’re insisting on speaking with you. It’s quite urgent, sir.”
I would rather be left alone to go through the plans in my head and figure out the best way to deal with whoever’s been opposing me but I keep all that aside for now.
“Who is it?” I demand, my voice rising.
Vito hesitates before answering, “It is Mateo, sir.”
My expression darkens. Mateo fucking Caruso?
“What the fuck does he want from me?” My voice is raised in anger.
“He says it’s about the shipments.”
If he is the fucking one responsible for everything, I’ll gut him out alive.
My interest piques, and I snatch the phone from Vito’s hand. “Are you behind this?”
The voice on the other end is husky and thick, like a cloud of smoke that curls around my ears. “Ah, Luca, good to finally speak with you.”
I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Before you jump to conclusions, Luca, no, I am not behind your stolen shipments. Rather, I want to help you.”
“What do you want, Caruso?” Nothing is without a cost in this business. It’s a game we all play.
Mateo chuckles, the sound low and gravelly. “I want to make a deal, Luca. A trade.”
My curiosity is piqued even more now. What could a Caruso possibly have to offer that I’d be interested in? “What kind of trade?” I ask gruffly, my mind filling with possibilities.
“That’s what I’m calling to talk about,” he replies, his tone measured. “Let’s just say it’s something that will benefit both our families.”
I hesitate a bit, my instincts screaming warning signals. Something about Mateo’s tone puts me on edge. He sounds too confident, too self-assured. I decide to play along for now because I’m itching to hear what he has to say. “I’m listening,” I growl, still wary.
“Hand over Gianna, I know you have her, and I will help you with your little shipment-getting-seized problem,” Mateo says, his tone too relaxed for my liking.
I let out a menacing laugh, the sound reverberating through the room like a cold, mirthless echo. “Oh, Mateo, you really are a bold one, aren’t you?” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. The men around me shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting towards me with obvious nervousness.
Mateo tries to explain, but I cut him off, my laughter still echoing in the air.
“No, Caruso. You're not getting Gianna. She’s mine. I have plans for her, and no one, especially not you, is going to get in my way."
My voice is much colder now, with quite a firmness to it, as I make myself clear to Mateo. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to make a deal with me, Mateo.”
I end the call with Mateo and toss the phone at Vito, who catches it.
Just as I’m about to turn my attention back to the matter at hand, the radio crackles to life, and a voice announces, “Salvatore Mancini...”