Chapter 20 Luca
LUCA
Ihate dingy rooms, but I'm entering the dingiest of them all in my basement.
What can I say… I have a special guest down there.
"This better be good," I growl, passing one of my men.
"Trust me, boss. We caught him alive and are waiting on you to break him."
A thrill goes down my spine. I want to be a better man, but these fuckers stormed in with guns, scaring the living daylights out of my kid and Belle.
So yeah, my plan is to enjoy beating the shit out of someone.
Down here it's always cold and dark, with the concrete smelling wet. The room is simple with a chair, drain, a table. No mirrors. No one here needs to look at themselves because that'll only make them shit their pants.
He's zip-tied to the chair, breathing like he's got bad lungs. He's in his late twenties, tattooed like a thug without class, and has a chip in his front tooth that says he learned hard lessons cheap.
Just seeing him here, for me to play a round of questions and answers with, makes me damn glad for whoever dragged him alive out of the east corridor.
His one eye's already swollen shut, and he's looking at me like he's still brave.
Oh, hell yeah. I'm about to have some fun.
"Name?"
He spits blood at my feet. Cute.
"Let's try this again," I say, circling him like a shark that smells dinner. "Who sent you?"
He just glares like he can deliver vengeance through his eyes.
"Wipe that look off his face." I nod to Alexei, who stands guard behind me.
My cousin steps forward and drives his fist into the guy's kidney. The scream is a sweet symphony bouncing off the walls.
Not many people know about this room under my house. The soundproofing is excellent. Nobody hears you down here except the people who put you here.
"You're the only one left alive," I tell him when he catches his breath. "So here's the deal: you talk, you walk. Or you can join your friends in the Hudson. Your call."
He stays silent. I grab a pair of pliers.
His eyes blast open, darting around the room like Moses might come save him.
"Talk, or I make your death real slow." I look at his fingernails.
"P…Please don't… I'm just muscle," he wheezes. "They don't tell us shit."
I laugh.
"See, that's the kind of answer that makes me want to get creative." I snap the pliers and move towards him. "I was hoping we could keep this civilized."
"Wait! Jesus Christ, wait."
I stop. "I'm listening."
"It was a job," he gasps. "Twenty grand each. Half up front."
I lean in close enough to smell his blood. "Who paid you?"
The million-dollar question. His eyes slide away from mine.
"Look at me," I growl. When he doesn't, I grab his chin, force his head up. "Who. Paid. You?"
"He'll kill me."
"And what do you think I'm going to do? Send you to Disney World?" I release his chin with a shove. "I'm not a patient man, and you're testing what little I have left."
He stays silent and I nod to Alexei again, who cracks his knuckles with a sound like breaking twigs.
"Your brother," he gasps. "Declan Moretti paid us."
The words hit like a sledgehammer to the chest. For a moment, I can't breathe, can't think, can't process what I've just heard.
My brother. My blood. The man I've protected, provided for, trusted with my life and my family's safety.
Suspicion is one thing—it whispers in dark corners, plants seeds of doubt. But confirmation? Confirmation is a knife between the ribs, twisted slow and deep.
From this point on, thanks to my darling brother, I'll need eyes at the back of my fucking head.
I pace a slow circle around his chair, letting him stew in his own terror. "How did my brother contact you?"
"Through a guy I know. Carlo something. Works at that club downtown."
Carlo Visentin. One of Declan's boys from way back. This story checks out.
"What else did my brother want?"
"Just… he said if we happened to run into the girl, we should grab her. Said she was leverage you wouldn't expect."
My blood boils so hot I almost miss what he says next.
"Said your daughter would be left alone, though. That was the one rule."
Small fucking mercies. My own brother puts a hit on my house but draws the line at hurting his niece. I should be touched.
I turn to Alexei. "Get some air."
"Boss—"
"Five minutes. That's all."
Alexei hesitates, then leaves.
I wait until his footsteps fade, then turn back to our guest.
"Here's what happens now." I take a seat opposite him, resting my elbows on my knees. All casual, like we're having beers instead of a confession under duress. "I'm going to make you an offer."
"I told you everything!" Panic edges his voice.
"And I appreciate that. Really. Which is why I'm considering letting you walk out of here."
Hope flickers across his battered face. "You said if I talk, I walk."
"I say a lot of things." I smile. "But in this case, I might actually mean it. On one condition."
"Anything."
"You're going to deliver a message to my brother. But not with words."
He doesn't understand yet. That's okay. He will.
"I'm going to stage a little escape. Make it look like you broke free, killed the guard, and managed to flee. Declan will want to know what you found. What you told me."
"You want me to lie to him?"
"I want you to tell him you got into my office. That you found something—a business file. You learned I'm sending cash off-shore that the family doesn't know about."
The guy blinks. "Are you?"
I stare him down until he looks away. "That's not your concern. What matters is that Declan believes you found proof, and that I don't know you took it."
"And then what?"
"Then you tell him I've got a shipment coming in tomorrow night. Pier 86. Midnight. The big one we've been waiting for."
He swallows hard.
I stand, pull out my knife, and start cutting his restraints. "You're going to tell him everything I just told you, and then you're going to disappear. Change your name. Move to Alaska. I don't care. But if I ever see your face again, or if Declan learns we had this little chat..."
I don't finish the threat. Guy was smart enough to talk, which tells me he's smart enough to want to live.
The door opens, and Alexei returns. His eyes narrow. "Boss—"
"It's fine," I tell him. "Our guest and I have an understanding."
I turn back to the now-unbound man. "You've got three minutes to get out of here. My men won't stop you. Now get the fuck out of my house before I change my mind."
He doesn't need to be told twice. He stumbles to his feet, and limps toward the door. Alexei steps aside, watching me with questions in his eyes.
Once we're alone, he speaks. "Want to tell me what that was about?"
"Bait for a rat." I head for the stairs. "Have someone clean this up. I need to find Belle and Sofia."
I need to see them and know they're whole and untouched by the mess my brother caused. Even though the danger's gone, the ghosts might still linger and I'm not callous enough to believe the mind can't hold scars.
Declan fucking scarred them, that fucker. His funeral's going to run on my time now.
My brother got past my guards, past my cameras, past my trust. What else has he found his way through?
I can't yet tell a soul what I know. He comes around the house, and if I warn someone, they might spill. I need him to think he's winning. He can win this battle, but I'll win the war.
On my hunt for Belle and Sofia, I pass my men crawling around the house, cleaning up and reinforcing on high alert. The innocence is gone. How many of them report to Declan? How deep does this betrayal go?
Every shadow feels menacing. Every corner hides a nightmare waiting to happen. I've lived with danger my whole life, learned to wear it like a second skin, but this is different. This isn't just about me anymore.
It's about them. My girls.
Room after room after room, I end up empty.
Panic flutters at the base of my skull like a trapped bird.
"Where are they?" I snap at the nearest guard.
"Miss Belle took Sofia to the theater room, sir."
The home theater. Of course. Belle knows Sofia needs distraction after the night we've had yesterday.
Belle isn't even supposed to be permanent. At least, that's what I told myself when I first brought her here. But now? She's burrowed so deep under my skin that the thought of losing her makes my chest feel like it's caving in.
I feel like I'm hers, hook, line and sinker, and wonder if she even knows the half of it.
I reach the theater room, but don't yet enter. I just stand at the doorway, and watch my girls in action. Belle, bless her heart, has Sofia cuddled up next to her, occasionally kissing the top of her head as they watch some flick on the big screen.
Every few minutes she slides a piece of popcorn to my kid without looking away from the movie, and fuck, domestic's suddenly the only thing I've ever wanted.
They look... right together. Like they belong. Like this is how it's always been.
I move a step closer, slow enough not to break the spell. Belle's soft in the light—bare knees tucked, hair loose, focus all for the girl pressed against her. She laughs at some stupid joke and the sound low-key wrecks me. I've bled for less.
The way she cares for my kid? Knife through warm butter. My heart goes soft and dangerous.
Sofia's just a child in the safest place in the world: under the arm of a woman who'd take a bullet with no questions asked. I know it. I saw it in her eyes when I handed her that gun. She would have put herself between Sofia and harm without hesitation.
Just like Elena would have.
The thought of Elena doesn't hurt the way it used to. She would have liked Belle, I think. Might've laughed at how fast I folded.
I don't go in. I stand there and let myself be a man with a view: counting the tiny giggles, the breaths, the proof of life I can't afford to lose. My fingers curl against the doorframe like they're holding the whole house up.
"I'll burn this world down before I let anyone touch them," I tell the dark, and if God's listening, he can consider that a promise.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, quiet yet wild. I answer without taking my eyes off Belle and Sofia.
"Moretti."
"Boss, it's Vito. I've heard rumors."
My grip tightens on the phone and I walk out, whispering to not be heard. "What rumors?"
"Word came in from my ears that we have enemies coming for your load at Pier 86 tomorrow. You never looped me in—how'm I supposed to cover for goods I don't know about?"
Well, I'll be damned. Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a leak.
"Must have slipped my mind." I smile. "Don't you worry, Vito. It's nothing precious."
But Declan's just proved he can't keep his big, fat mouth shut and that's the real treasure in the picture.