Chapter 22 Luca #2
About the gambling debts. About the men who approached him. About the fifty thousand dollars to clear everything in exchange for information about Marco’s schedule. About how they promised no one would get hurt, that it was just intelligence they needed for their own purposes.
“They said he was a bad man. That he dealt in illegal things. They made it sound like I’d be helping catch a criminal.”
The justification makes rage burn fresh in my chest. Antonio was weak, yes. Cowardly. But not stupid enough to believe that lie without wanting to believe it, without choosing to let himself be manipulated because it was easier than facing the truth.
The recording continues. Antonio’s breakdown. His confession that Marco died, that the plan went wrong, that he’s responsible for someone’s death. Gigi trying to calm him, to understand what happened.
Then, at exactly forty-two minutes in, a phone rings.
My entire body goes rigid.
I know what’s coming. But hearing it—actually hearing it—
“Hello?” Antonio’s voice is small and terrified.
A pause. Then that voice. Smooth and utterly devoid of emotion.
“Antonio. I take it you’ve heard the news.”
Salvatore fucking Romano.
Marco’s murderer.
“I-I did exactly what you told me,” Antonio stammers on the recording. “I gave them the exact schedule, the routes, everything. I don’t understand what went wrong—”
“What went wrong,” Romano’s voice is ice, “is that Marchetti wasn’t there. Marco was alone, which wasn’t the intelligence you provided. Your information was faulty.”
“I swear, I told you everything I knew! The other Marchetti was supposed to be—”
My breath stops.
The other Marchetti was supposed to be.
The target wasn’t Marco. It was me.
Romano wanted me dead, and Marco died in my place because I got called away to handle a territorial dispute at the last minute.
Marco, who went to oversee the shipment alone because he trusted the routine.
Marco, who died protecting my location during torture because he thought keeping me safe mattered more than his own life.
“This is your failure, Antonio,” Romano continues, his voice carrying that same dismissive tone I’ve heard him use for business complications.
“Acceptable collateral damage, perhaps, but a failure nonetheless. Marco Marchetti’s death serves my purposes, but not as efficiently as the target’s would have.
You’ll need to provide additional intelligence to make up for this… disappointment.”
The recording continues—Antonio pleading, Romano making threats—but I can’t hear it anymore over the roaring in my ears.
I was the target. Marco died saving me. And Salvatore Romano has been sitting across from me at business meetings, shaking my hand, toasting my marriage, while knowing he ordered my death and accidentally killed my cousin instead.
The rage that’s been burning in my chest explodes into something beyond reason, beyond control.
I sweep my arm across my desk, sending papers and folders flying.
The laptop goes with them, crashing to the floor, but I don’t care.
I don’t care about evidence or proof or anything except the white-hot need to destroy something, someone, to make them hurt the way I’m hurting.
“Luca—” Gigi’s voice is very far away.
“You knew!” I whirl on her, and I must look insane because she actually takes a step back.
“You’ve known for weeks that Salvatore Romano killed Marco.
That he ordered my death and got my cousin instead.
That I’ve been—” My voice cracks. “I’ve been negotiating with him.
Doing business with the man who destroyed my world, and you said nothing! ”
“I already told you I was terrified!” She’s shouting now too, matching my fury with her own.
“You think I wanted to keep that secret? You think it didn’t eat at me every single day, watching you torture yourself?
” She grabs her hair in frustration. “But what was I supposed to do, Luca?” She looks at me plaintively with those big brown eyes of hers.
“Trust the man who was planning to kill me anyway?”
Some of my anger dies at that moment. Because, yes, she’s right.
I was planning to kill her. According to my original timeline, she should have been dead already, her death the final act in my revenge against Antonio. How could I expect her to trust me with information that made her either too valuable or too dangerous to keep alive?
But it doesn’t matter. Not when every moment between us has been revealed as a foundation built on lies. Not when she watched me suffer, watched me talk to Marco’s killer at our wedding, and said absolutely nothing.
“I fell in love with you,” I hear myself say, and my voice sounds broken and unfamiliar. “I gave up three years of revenge planning. I chose you over justice for Marco. And the entire time, you were protecting his killer.”
“I was protecting myself!” Tears stream down her face now, her composure finally shattering.
“I was protecting my father. I was trying to survive in a situation where every choice could get me killed.” She glares at me, tears tracking down her cheeks.
“You don’t get to act betrayed when you were the one who made me afraid to trust you in the first place! ”
Fuck me, she’s right again. But it doesn’t ease the rage burning through my veins or make the betrayal hurt any less.
“Get out.” The words come out flat, emotionless, more terrifying than any scream. “Get out of my office before I do something we’ll both regret.”
She actually looks stricken. “Luca—”
“Get the fuck out!” The roar tears from my throat with enough force that Gigi actually flinches. “Go back to your room. Lock the door. And stay the hell away from me while I figure out what to do with you.”
She stares at me for one more heartbeat, and I see the exact moment when cool fury takes over her expression. Then she’s gone, the door slamming behind her hard enough to rattle the frames on my walls.
The silence that follows is deafening.
I sink onto the leather sofa, my hands covering my face, trying to breathe through the chaos of emotions threatening to tear me apart.
Rage at Romano. Betrayal from Gigi. Grief for Marco that feels fresh again, raw as the day I found his body.
And underneath all of it, the horrible realization that she’s right about everything.
I made her afraid to trust me. I planned her death while she was falling in love with me. I created this situation where her survival depended on keeping secrets from the man who held her captive.
How can I blame her for protecting herself when I gave her every reason to believe I’d destroy her?
But the betrayal still burns. The knowledge that she sat through a dinner with Romano, smiled at him, let me handle business with him while knowing he killed Marco—
I knew he was planning something. Discussed it with Viktor. But is somehow worse.
My fist drives into the wall before I can think better of it. Pain explodes across my knuckles, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to drown out the roar of fury and grief and betrayal churning in my chest.
I punch the wall again. And again. Each impact sends fresh agony shooting up my arm, but the physical pain is easier to process than the emotional devastation.
It’s easier than facing the truth that I’ve destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me through my own inability to be the man she needed me to be.
“Fuck!” The scream comes out of me, raw and anguished. “She lied to me, Marco! She knew who killed you and she said nothing!”
But Marco’s not here to answer. Marco’s been dead for three years, and his killer has been walking around free, building his empire, shaking my hand while I remained oblivious.
Because Gigi didn’t tell me.
The door opens. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Danny. No one else would dare enter when I’m like this.
“Luca—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Danny, do not.” I’m still staring at the blood on my knuckles, watching it well up from split skin. “Do not tell me to calm down. Don’t tell me she had her reasons. Don’t tell me any of the rational, logical things you’re thinking right now because I can’t—I can’t hear it.”
“Then don’t listen.” Danny moves closer, and I can hear the careful control in his voice. The tone he uses when he thinks I’m about to do something irreversible. “Just let me say what I need to say, and then I’ll leave you alone.”
I don’t respond, which he takes as fucking permission.
“You had something real with her,” Danny says quietly. “You threw it away to maintain a lie about your disposal plan.”
My head snaps up. Is he fucking seriously taking her side?
“She knew who killed Marco and kept it from me,” I hiss.
“She kept Romano’s identity secret out of terror,” Danny responds.
“While it’s not right, her reasoning makes sense.
You’re both carrying lies that poisoned everything.
” He pauses, and I can feel him choosing his words carefully.
“What matters more, Luca? Being right about who betrayed who, or getting her back?”
He could have punched me. It would have hurt just as much. I turn away.
“She could have ended my suffering,” I say, my voice raw. “Do you know what I could have done with that information? How much sooner could I have gotten justice for Marco?”
“And she’ll probably never forgive you for planning her murder,” Danny replies bluntly.
“For making her fall in love with you while secretly intended to kill her. So yeah, you’re both carrying massive betrayals.
” He releases a large breath. “The question is whether you’re going to let that destroy what’s left or whether you’re going to figure out how to rebuild from the wreckage. ”
I finally turn to look at him. Danny’s face is impassive, but I can see the concern in his green eyes. The same look he had when I was spiraling after Marco’s death, when revenge was the only thing keeping me functional.
“Marco wouldn’t want you to destroy your chance at happiness for his memory,” Danny continues softly. “You know that, right? He’d tell you to forgive her, to understand why she was afraid, to choose love over being right.”
The mention of Marco makes my throat close up. Because Danny’s not wrong. Marco always chose compassion over vengeance, understanding over judgment. He would have understood why Gigi was afraid to trust me. He would have reminded me that I created this situation through my own cruelty.
But understanding doesn’t make the betrayal hurt any less.
“Get out,” I say quietly. “Please, Danny. Just…get out.”
He hesitates for one more moment then nods and leaves.
Alone again, I sink back onto the sofa and let myself feel the full weight of what I’ve lost.
Gigi’s trust. Her love. Any chance of the future we might have built if I’d been honest from the start about my changing plans.
And underneath all of it, the knowledge that Salvatore Romano has been laughing at me for years. Playing me like a puppet while I remained oblivious.
That, at least, is something I can fix.
Romano wanted me dead. He killed Marco trying to achieve that goal. And now that I know the truth, now that the scales have fallen from my eyes—
He’s going to pay.
Every. Single. Drop.
But first, I need to deal with the woman currently locked in her room, terrified of what I might do next. The woman I love desperately despite the betrayal burning in my chest. The woman carrying secrets that could have saved me weeks of suffering if she’d only trusted me enough to share them.
I look down at my bleeding knuckles and make a decision.
Justice for Marco comes first. It has to. I’ve already failed him once by not protecting him that night. I won’t fail him again by prioritizing my personal drama over hunting his killer.
But after that…
After Romano is dealt with, after Marco’s death is finally avenged, then I’ll figure out whether there’s anything left of me and Gigi worth saving.
Or whether we’ve both destroyed each other too completely to ever find our way back.