47. Lucas
CHAPTER 47
Lucas
A s the gym is filled with renewed energy and life, having finally reopened after the mystery shooting, I make it a point to become a regular visitor, putting in the work before the doors open to the public.
Today, the empty gym smells like sweat and resolve. My fists pound the heavy bag with a rhythm that drowns out everything else, even my thoughts of Serafina. The idea of her being back and in such close proximity reminds me of how much I need her. How much I crave her.
But I can't touch her, not yet. So, instead, I settle for a session between me and the leather. Left hook, right jab, over and over until my knuckles ache.
My phone buzzes insistently in my pocket, disrupting the steady rhythm of my punches. Irritation builds within me as I ignore it for the first two times, but on the third buzz, I let out a weary sigh and pull off my gloves. They fall heavily to the floor with a dull thud, their weight matching the heaviness in my heart. The name on the screen makes my gut twist. Nora.
Something's up.
"Hola," I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Lucas," her voice trembles, and I know right away. This isn't good. A deep sense of foreboding washes over me as I steel myself for whatever news she is about to deliver.
"Spill it," I say, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.
"All we can get with the information you're giving us are the lower-tier guys." Nora's voice is steady but edged with frustration. "None of the big names - not Luciano, not Dante. And the allegations about trafficking? The FBI doesn't have enough proof to charge them."
"Puta madre," I curse under my breath, my agitation causing me to pace back and forth across the worn mats of the gym floor. The walls feel like they're closing in, suffocating me with their bleakness. For the past few days, I've poured all my energy into gathering the evidence needed to take down the entire Fabietti family. But according to the Feds, it's not sufficient. The frustration bubbles within me again. This time, I unleash my anger on the nearest punching bag, feeling like all my efforts were in vain.
"Motherfucker is right," she says softly, and I can picture her, blue highlights catching the light, eyes steady but sad. "We did everything by the book, but those bastards are slippery."
"Yeah, well, the book isn't worth much in this game," I reply, kicking at a stray glove on the floor.
"I'm not done trying," she continues, the edge in her voice sharpening. "I know it's not what you wanted to hear. Give me time; I know I can nail them."
"Fuck," I mutter, slamming another fist into the same heavy bag. The sound echoes in the empty gym, reverberating off the walls like my frustration. Sweat drips down my forehead, mixing with the salt of disappointment lingering on my lips.
"Lucas?" Nora's voice crackles through the phone speaker, drawing me out of my thoughts like a sudden jolt. The sound is desperate, pleading. "Tell me you'll give me some time to get them the legal way."
"Plan B, huh?" I let out a heavy sigh as I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. "Nora, you don't get it. I can't afford any more of your plans."
"Lucas, listen—" she pleads, but I can't bring myself to listen.
"No, you listen," I snap back, my patience wearing thin. The tension between us crackles like electricity in the air. "I appreciate everything you've done, but this is bigger than you or me. Bigger than any plan you can cook up. It's best you don't know what I'm gonna do next."
"Don't you dare shut me out," Nora's retort is fierce and unwavering, her voice slicing through the air like a sharp blade. "Wherever you go, I go. Even if it's to the depths of hell and back. You're like a brother to me, Lucas. The only way I won't be by your side is if I'm dead."
"Dammit, Nora," I let out a sigh and lean my forehead against the cool leather of the punching bag, trying to hold onto my composure. "It's not about shutting you out. It's about keeping you safe."
"Safe?" she scoffs bitterly. "There's no safety in this life, Lucas. Not for you, not for me. Besides, you can't pull the same crap on me as you did with Sera."
"Sorry, I know I put you in a sticky situation with Sera," I apologize, feeling guilty and regretful as I stare down at my phone. Caught between loyalty to her friend and the pressure I unintentionally put on her, I feel terrible for putting her in such a difficult position by giving her no alternative but to betray her trust.
"It's fine," she responds with gentle understanding. "Maybe one day she'll forgive me, maybe she won't. But it's important that she hears everything from you, not me. You understand?"
"I'll make it up to you one day, I promise," I mutter, ending the call and allowing the weight of silence to envelop me like a suffocating blanket. My mind races with thoughts about fixing this mess I've created.
The phone feels heavy in my hand. I toss it onto the bench, watching as it bounces once before settling into place. I run a hand through my dark hair, feeling the sweat already forming on my brow. The gym is quiet, just the rhythmic sound of my breathing and the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
Nora's words echo in my mind, her fierce loyalty wrapping around my heart like a vise. She's tough, tougher than most men I know. The kind of woman who doesn't flinch in the face of danger. And damn it, she's right. We're family, forged by battle and blood, bound by more than just shared enemies.
I start working the bag, each punch a release of pent-up frustration. I think about everything I stand to lose if I don't do something drastic and take these fuckers down. The empire I'm helping to build. The Mancini family's generosity. My budding relationship with The Fallen Angels. Serafina.
I stop, resting my hands on my knees, catching my breath. The weight of the world pressing down on me. But there's no backing down now. Not with so much at stake.
I grab my phone again, staring at it briefly before shoving it into my pocket. There's work to be done and plans to be made. And somewhere in this chaos, a path forward.
With a final glance at the punching bag, I head for the door. The fight's just beginning, and I'm not planning on losing.
The cool evening air hits my sweaty skin as I exit the gym. The city is alive with the usual sounds—cars honking, people chattering, life moving on despite the chaos lurking beneath its surface. I lock up the place, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing heavier than ever.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see Dominic's name flashing on the screen. A knot forms in my stomach. Dominic doesn't call unless it's something serious. Real serious.
"Dominic?" I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Lucas," he breathes out, his tone shaky—an emotion I've never heard from him before.
Dominic, the rock, unshakeable and always in control. Hearing fear in his voice chills me to the bone. "We've got a problem. A big one."
"Talk to me," I urge, walking towards my car and unlocking it with a click.
"The Fabiettis... they hit us hard. Blew up our legitimate brick-and-mortars. Every single one of them."
"Fucking hell," I curse under my breath, a barely contained rage that I direct towards the steering wheel, clenching it tightly until my knuckles turn white. Those shops were more than just businesses; they were lifelines, symbols of our legitimacy in this dirty game.
"All of them?" I ask through gritted teeth, my voice barely concealing the anger simmering just underneath the surface.
"Yes, Lucas. Every last one. We're bleeding, man. And if we don't act fast, it's gonna get worse," Lucas replies with a sense of urgency in his voice.
As I start the engine and speed away, my mind races through possible next steps. "Where are you now?"
"At the main shop. Or what's left of it," he says bitterly. "We need to regroup. Fast."
"On my way." With determination and dread swirling together in my mind like a storm, I hang up the phone and toss it onto the passenger seat.
The streets blur by in a whirl of neon lights and blurred faces as I speed toward our destination, my mind consumed by thoughts of Nora, Serafina, and the rest of the Mancini family. Determination and dread churn within me like a violent storm, threatening to tear me apart.
The Fabiettis will regret this, I'll make sure of it. But before retaliating, we have to survey the damage they've inflicted upon us.
As I approach the main shop, thick tendrils of smoke assault my senses, stinging my eyes and filling my nostrils with acrid fumes. The flames dance maniacally, devouring what remains of the once-prosperous Mancini business. Their angry red glow casts an eerie haze against the bright blue sky above. The air is heavy with the scent of burning wood and metal, a harsh reminder of the chaos our enemies have unleashed upon us.
"Dominic!" I shout, stepping out of the car, my voice barely cutting through the chaos. Sirens wail in the distance, but they're too late. Far too late.
"Here!" Dominic waves me over, his face a mask of grim determination. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now reflect the fire's rage. "They hit us while we were down. Fucking cowards."
"Malditos..." I mutter, running a hand through my hair. My heart pounds with anger, fear, and a desperate need to fix this mess. "We can't let the fuckers get away with this."
"Agreed. But what's the plan?" Dominic's voice is hoarse like he's been screaming orders for hours.
"We need everyone. Gather all the men you can," I say, my mind racing, piecing together a strategy. "No exceptions. We need to show strength. Now.”
"Got it." He nods, pulling out his phone to start making calls.
I step away from him, my own hand shaking as I reach for my phone. Nervousness bubbles up inside me, causing my fingers to tremble as they hover over the touch screen. Don Martin answers on the third ring.
"Don Martin. We've been hit. Hard." I force myself to speak calmly, hiding the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me.
"Lucas, what happened?" There's an edge of worry in his voice.
"Fabiettis blew up our shops. Every single one. We need backup. All hands on deck."
"Alright, I'll gather our men," he responds swiftly.
"Gracias, Don. Texting you the location now." I hang up and stare at the blazing inferno before me. We need to strike back now. This is war, and there's no turning back.