Chapter 44
Luciano
Usually, after returning from missions orchestrated by my father, the adrenaline would fade, leaving behind a feeling I couldn’t name. I used to think it was calm. Now I know better. Loneliness.
I looked up the word once, just to be sure—the absence of connection. That’s what it had been all along. A void I had grown so used to, I mistook it for peace. And now that I know the difference, I never want to feel that way again.
“What are you thinking about?” Ava broke into my thoughts. Her voice was soft, still lazy with sleep.
We hadn’t left the bedroom in two days. The outside world could wait. She’d spent most of the time curled beside me, barefoot in one of my T-shirts, her legs warm against mine, her hair twisted into a lazy bun she never bothered to fix.
She didn’t like the housekeeper service. Said it made her uncomfortable having strangers pick up after her. I told her it was something she’d have to get used to.
Right now, she was lying next to me, trailing her long nails over the scars hidden beneath my tattoos, pausing at the one above my ribs.
“I was thinking about how it used to feel... after a job,” I said. My voice came out low, flat. “That silence when it was over. When the blood had dried and there was no one waiting.”
Her fingers went still.
“I think I mistook it for calm,” I continued. “But it was loneliness. And now that I know the difference… I don’t ever want to feel it again.”
She reached for my hand and threaded her fingers through mine. “You won’t. I’m here.”
Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door. One knock.
I didn’t need to ask who it was. “My father,” I said quietly.
He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Luciano. Now,” he barked through the door.
I pressed a kiss to Ava’s temple and stood, dressing quickly. When I opened the door, he was flanked by two guards, arms crossed.
“I got Saint’s report,” he said. “I want yours.”
I nodded and led him to the study. Thirty minutes later, I gave him everything—the names, the locations, the bodies. The Russo family was no longer a problem.
“Good work,” he said simply.
We left the study. At the top of the stairs, Ava was waiting.
“I ordered breakfast. Vito, you should join us.”
I paused. Even he paused.
But she smiled politely and, without waiting for an answer, turned and walked down the stairs.
He looked at me sideways. “She’s being… agreeable.”
I said nothing. Because I wastrying to figure it out what was going on.
Downstairs, we sat at the table she’d arranged. Pancakes, eggs, fruit, coffee—enough for everyone, even the guards. She invited them to eat. And they did, awkward and unsure, clearly waiting for someone to correct them.
No one did.
My father watched her. So did I.
After breakfast, I followed her upstairs.
“What was that?” I asked, eyes on her as she changed into a pair of jeans.
She looked over her shoulder. “Breakfast?”
“With him. With his men.”
“We talked,” she said, pulling a shirt over her head. “Your father and I have an understanding now.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of understanding?”
“The kind that keeps the peace. I didn’t forgive him for anything. But I’m not trying to start a war either.”
I didn’t like it. Couldn’t say why. But it stirred something in me I didn’t trust.
“Why are you getting dressed?”
“Aria called. She wants to go shopping.”
I went still. “Shopping?”
“She has a list. Baby stuff. I said I’d go.” She moved past me toward her purse.
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like anything.”
She was smiling when she said it, but the way she avoided my eyes didn’t sit right.
“You said things were safe for now,” she added. “This is just two wives of the mob doing something normal for once.”
I hated that sentence. Normal didn’t exist for people like us.
Still, I nodded once. “Fine.”
But it wasn’t fine.
Ten minutes later, while I was in the shower, I heard her voice.
I stepped quietly to the cracked bathroom door. Just in time to catch the end of her sentence.
“…Yeah. I’m sure. Just be ready when I call, okay?”
A pause.
“No. It's not that crucial.”
Then there was silence.
I heard the bedroom door close.
I left the bathroom, naked and wet. I watched from the upstairs window as she climbed into an SUV. Aria was already inside, her son strapped in beside her. Two guards followed close behind, just like Saint promised when I’d called him.
Must have been Aria she was talking to. I didn’t like the thought of them as friends.
Aria would be a bad influence. I wanted to see what they were up to.
I tracked them to a coffee shop.
After getting drinks, they went to two shops. A boutique on Howard. A baby store near Westshore.
They laughed. They shopped.
Their outing looked harmless. So I left.
But even as I drove back, a strange pressure sat in my chest. Not panic. Not paranoia. Something else. A whisper in the gut.
I didn’t believe in gut instinct. I dismissed it. I ignored the warning in my blood.