Chapter Eight #3
He smiles faintly.
“And because he already considered you friends.”
“Why not come out now?” Spike repeats my question from earlier.
“You’re not ready to accept his truth,” Luca says calmly.
“And what truth is that?” Bones asks, voice low, dangerous.
Luca smiles with a sigh of playfulness, like he’s holding a secret he finds almost beautiful.
“That…” he says softly, “…Il Don is not the man you expect.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning,” Luca continues, hands spreading elegantly, “your idea of a Don is… how do you say…” He wiggles his fingers. “A stereotype. A story told in movies. A monster in a tailored suit.”
He chuckles lightly, shaking his head.
“And sì, he can be the very monster people think him to be if the situation requires it, but Il Don is also something else entirely.”
Tank leans forward. “So what the hell is he?”
Luca doesn’t flinch.
“He is a man who walks among you without fearing your judgment. He is a leader who listens before he commands. He is someone who chooses his family…not by blood, not by name…but by loyalty.”
He tilts his head, eyes warm but sharp.
“And that is why you are not ready.”
Spike frowns. “Explain.”
“Because if Il Don walked through this door right now, without title… without guards…” Luca gestures around the room. “Half of you would not believe he is who he is. And the other half would be furious you didn’t know sooner.”
A cold shiver skates down my spine.
“Why would he expect us to be furious?” I ask.
Luca shrugs gently. “Because men of honor do not like to be surprised. And Il Don respects honor more than power.”
Bones huffs. “And why would he care whether we like him or not?”
Luca’s smile fades into something sincere.
“Because he admires you.”
The room goes silent.
Luca meets each of our eyes one by one.
“And because whether you realize it or not…you have already earned his loyalty.”
Something twists in my chest.
A feeling I don’t like.
A feeling that says we’re standing on the edge of a truth that won’t make sense until it hits us like a freight train later.
Luca stands smoothly.
“When he comes to you,” he says, “you will understand. His truth is not a threat.”
He places a hand over his heart. “It is a gift.”
And something about the way he says it makes the entire room uneasy.
Not scared.
Not suspicious.
Just… waiting.
“Enzo will show you out,” Luca says as he turns toward the door he entered from, his suit jacket falling perfectly back into place.
He pauses only a beat before adding, without glancing over his shoulder:
“Ah… and please, put the knives away, Bones.”
Bones freezes, his hands on the hilt of one of his toys.
Luca continues, completely unfazed.
“I’ve been informed the children have finished their lessons and are roaming the halls. Best not to frighten them.”
He opens the door with a soft click.
“Have a good day, gentlemen.”
And then he’s gone.
Leaving the room thick with an uncomfortable mix of tension, irritation, and confusion.
Bones slowly slides his knives back into their places, grumbling under his breath, “Didn’t even take ’em all the way out.”
Tank snorts. “Pretty sure he could feel you reaching for them.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Pretty sure we were all just politely kicked the fuck out.”
Spike exhales. “Let’s just go. We’ve got shit to problem-solve.”
Enzo appears in the doorway, smiling like he’s been waiting the entire time.
“If you will follow me, signori,” he says, bowing faintly. “Il Don thanks you for your visit.”
“Visit?” I mutter. “That felt more like a job interview for the Hunger Games.”
Enzo pretends not to hear me.
And we head out, every one of us feeling the same thing.
We came looking for answers.
We’re leaving with more questions.
And one hell of a secret lurking in these halls.
We follow Enzo through a maze of marble hallways and gold-framed artwork, our footsteps echoing like we’re inside a damn museum. The air smells like money and lemon polish.
We’re almost to the front foyer when something tiny darts out of a doorway.
A little girl…maybe five…dark curls, big brown eyes, wearing a pink dress with glittery shoes.
She plants herself right in front of me with no fear in her eyes and hands on her hips like she owns the entire estate.
“You’re big,” she says, staring up at me with absolute seriousness.
I blink. “Uh… yes, I am.”
“You’re big like the Don,” she says with a proud nod.
Tank snorts, and she spins toward him.
“You’re big like the Don, too!”
Tank gives her a soft smile. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Then she turns and sees Maverick.
Her eyes go HUGE.
Chuckling, Maverick moves to kneel down until he’s eye level with the little girl.
“If they’re big like your Don,” Maverick says with an easy smile, “that must mean I am too. Right?”
She blinks… then nods hard.
And honestly? I don’t blame her. Maverick is one scary motherfucker. He’s even bigger than Tank, and that’s saying something.
Maverick softens, voice warm and patient in a way that makes the girl practically melt.
“Your friend told us you were in your lessons,” he says gently. “Did you learn anything new today?”
The little girl lights up instantly.
“YES!” she chirps. “Today we were taught about animals in danger of extinction!”
Maverick gasps dramatically. “In danger? Oh no. Which ones?”
She holds up fingers as she counts. “Sea turtles… wolves… and the little foxes!”
“Foxes?” Maverick puts a hand to his chest like he’s devastated. “Those are my favorite.”
She nods proudly. “Mine too!”
“Well,” he says seriously, “you’ll have to teach me all about them next time I’m here. Think you can do that?”
Her eyes go so round they look like coins. “YES! I can teach you EVERYTHING.”
Maverick taps her chin lightly. “I believe you.”
She throws her arms around his neck in a spontaneous hug, nearly knocking him off balance with all thirty pounds of her enthusiasm.
He chuckles and hugs her back gently.
“Go find your mamma,” Enzo tells her softly. “Tell her you were very brave when you met the visitors in leather vests.”
“I WAS brave!” she shouts, then takes off running down the hall like a pink missile.
Tank smirks. “Kid’s adorable.”
Bones grunts. “Pretty sure she could destroy us with those eyes alone.”
“Probably,” Maverick says, pushing to his feet. “It’s the cute ones you gotta watch. They’re the ones that get away with murder.”
Tank glances over as we follow Enzo down the hall. “You were good with her. Real good. You been around kids enough to get you that soft?”
“He’s around Bree and Asher all the time,” I remind him. “And you, big guy, turn into a damn marshmallow the second either of them looks at you.”
“Fuck you,” Tank mutters, though he’s smirking. “I’m just saying…it looked like Maverick had practice.”
“Had a daughter,” Maverick mutters just as Enzo opens the front doors.
We all freeze.
Every single one of us turns back toward him.
He just stands there. Still. Solid. Face flat and unreadable.
But his eyes…yeah, those say plenty.
“You’re a father?” I ask, shocked. “Why the hell didn’t I know that?”
Spike steps closer, voice gentler than I’ve heard in hours. “Where is she? Why haven’t we met her?”
Maverick’s jaw flexes…a tight, angry grind of bone and teeth.
“She was killed,” he says. “Years ago. Right alongside her mother… my wife.”
The world goes quiet.
Even the desert wind seems to stop for him.
“Fuck, brother,” Spike murmurs. “I’m so damn sorry. Is the person who did it still out there?”
And that’s when Maverick smiles. But it’s not his usual sideways, cocky grin.
It’s something darker. Colder. Like a man remembering a promise he already kept.
“No,” he says calmly. “He isn’t still out there.”
He steps past us, sunlight hitting his face just as the smirk settles.
“I bathed in that fucker’s blood for weeks before I let him die.”
Yeah.
We all believe him.
And not one of us says a damn word the rest of the walk to our bikes.