49. Lucas
CHAPTER 49
Lucas
L uciano's men surround me, not leaving even an inch for my escape. My heart pounds in my chest so hard it feels like it's about to break free. Blood seeps from a gash on my shoulder, most likely from our fight, but I can't focus on that now.
"This is it," I whisper to myself. "This is how it ends."
Suddenly, the sharp crack of shots pierces through the chaos from the windows. My instincts kick in, and I crouch down, scanning my surroundings for the source of the shots.
Glancing up, I watch Luciano doing the same, his eyes narrowing in alarm. The windows of his lavish bedroom burst into a flurry of crimson flashes, each one accompanied by a sharp crack that echoes through the chaos. His men drop one by one, their bodies hitting the ground with heavy thuds. I stay crouched, waiting for my turn, but it doesn't come.
The chaos finally subsides, and all that remains is a thick silence that envelops Luciano and me like a loose knot around our necks.
"What the fuck..." he curses, disbelief etched onto every line of his face as he slowly rises to his feet. His piercing brown eyes sweep over the chaos, then fix on me with a chillingly intense focus.
"Guess it's just you and me now," I say, forcing myself to stand despite the searing pain that shoots through my shoulder. It takes all my willpower to keep my voice steady.
"You're not leaving here alive, Lucas," Luciano snarls, his voice dripping with venom as he reaches for a nearby gun. He doesn't hesitate. One shot, two, three—each one narrowly missing as I dive behind his bed.
"Is that all you got?" I taunt, trying to buy myself some time. I’ve lost my gun somewhere between punching Luciano and dodging the bullets from outside, so my eyes scan the room until they land on a glint of metal in the distance - another gun. But it's too far out of reach, and I know I'll never make it there safely with Luciano closing in.
"You're a dead man walking!" Luciano inches forward, his confidence unwavering, but I can hear the slightest tremor in his voice. Maybe he realizes this isn't going to end well for either of us. "And after I finish you off, I'll end that fat cow myself!"
His words strike a raw nerve deep within me when he dares speak about Serafina that way. She's a fucking goddess, anything but a 'fat cow', and now, he must die immediately for it.
Without hesitation, I snatch up a jagged shard of glass, rising to my feet with deadly purpose. My aim is true as I thrust the shard towards his chest, watching in satisfaction as it pierces his skin. Shock registers on his face as his gun clatters to the ground, no longer a threat. But in a desperate attempt to retaliate, he throws himself at me, fist raised in aggression.
My fist connects with a sickening thud as I strike him in the stomach, sending him crashing to the ground. He reaches for another nearby gun, but I quickly retaliate with a punch to his face, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my knuckles. His eyes widen with anger and fear, but I don't stop. I keep punching, watching as blood sprays from his nose and mouth, his face contorting and deforming from the force of my blows. My hand feels on fire as I rain down punches until the man beneath me stops moving.
I stand up shakily, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I stare down at Luciano's lifeless body. The gravity of what I've just done hits me like a ton of bricks. I killed a man in cold blood. The adrenaline fades, replaced by a hollow ache. The man had been a monster, sure, but he was also someone's son, brother... a human being.
But another part of me, a darker and more sinister part, takes perverse pleasure in protecting Serafina no matter the personal cost. The thought of killing for her sends shivers down my spine, but I know deep down that I would do it again and again for her. I would do anything to keep her safe, even if it means descending into the depths of hell itself.
"Time to go," I mutter to myself, pushing away the conflicting emotions gnawing at my insides.
The stairs groan and protest beneath my weight as I descend, leaving behind the violence that I have fully surrendered to. Every step feels heavy, my boots dragging with exhaustion from the physical confrontation.
"Lucas!" Benjamin's voice cuts through the silence, relief evident in his tone. His tall frame appears at the bottom of the staircase, flanked by Ethan and a handful of their men, guns still drawn and eyes scanning for any lingering threat.
"Ben, Ethan," I nod, swallowing hard. "Gracias a Dios." My voice is rough, weighed down by exhaustion. "You guys saved my ass up there."
"Don't mention it, man." Ethan steps forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Couldn't let ya have all the fun."
"Fun, right..." A bitter laugh escapes my lips. Fun wasn't exactly how I'd describe it.
"Luciano?" Benjamin asks, his gaze searching mine.
"Dead." The word feels strange in my mouth, almost surreal. "It's done."
"Good." There's a grim satisfaction in Benjamin's eyes. "But we aren't done yet."
"Yeah," I sigh, glancing around. "Anyone left?"
"Just a few," Ethan replies, jerking his chin towards a corner where several of Luciano's men are huddled, disarmed, and guarded by our guys. Their faces are a mix of defiance and fear. Hostages now.
"Get 'em up," I order, my voice steadier than I feel. "We need to send a message."
"Right away, boss," one of our men responds, yanking one of Luciano's guys to his feet. The man glares at me, hatred burning in his eyes. But there's also something else—resignation.
"Listen up!" My voice booms, commanding attention. "You're coming with us. Any funny business, and you're dead. Capisce?"
"Capisce," they mutter, some more reluctantly than others.
"Let's move," I say, leading the way out. The air outside is cool, a stark contrast to the heated chaos inside. As we march our prisoners out, I can't shake the feeling that this victory, if you can call it that, came at too high a cost.
"Lucas," Ethan murmurs beside me, his voice low. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I lie, my gaze fixed ahead. "Just tired."
"Rest when we're done," he says, a hint of concern in his eyes. "For now, we have more work to do."
"Always do," I reply, my mind already drifting to Serafina. I wonder if she'll understand and forgive me for what I've done. For what I've become.
"Let's get this over with," I say, more to myself than anyone else. Tonight, we send a message. Tomorrow? We’ll worry about that later.
The morning sun filters through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. I lean back in my chair, nursing a cup of black coffee that does little to chase away the fatigue clinging to my bones. The air is thick with tension; today's the day we send our message to Dante Fabietti himself.
"?Estás listo?" Benjamin asks, stepping into the room. His eyes are sharp, assessing. He's been through this rodeo before.
"Yeah, I'm ready," I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. "Let's get it over with."
We walk down to gather in the dimly lit basement, where the hostages are kept. They look at us with a mix of fear and defiance. I step forward, taking a deep breath. "Listen up. You're gonna deliver a message for us. Make sure Dante understands every word. Comprenden?"
"Sí," one of them answers, voice trembling.
"Alright, let's make the call," Ethan says, handing me the phone. I dial Dante's number, my fingers steady despite the churning in my gut.
"Lucas," Dante answers, his voice calm, unbothered. It grates on my nerves.
"Fabietti," I say, keeping my tone even. "We've got your men. We are willing to release them on two conditions. End this war and shut down your human trafficking operations. Your other businesses are not our concern; just leave our territory alone and stop the trafficking."
There's a pause, then a low chuckle. "You think you can dictate terms to me, Lucas? Interesting."
"Not thinkin' anything, Dante. Just stating facts. Your move." I lower the phone from my ear and send him a photo of my latest victim, his own son. His lifeless body lies in a pool of blood on the floor of his lavish bedroom. "If you don't, your men and what's left of your family will meet the same fate as your beloved Don."
Another silence, longer this time, stretches out between us. I can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he weighs his words carefully. Finally, he speaks with a tone that is both icy and calculated. "Fine. But know this, Lucas—this isn't over."
His voice slices through me like a knife, sending a chill down my spine. I can't help but wonder how a father could be so detached at the sight of his own son's lifeless body. As if he sees him as nothing more than a mere pawn in his twisted game of chess.
"Yeah, well, we'll see about that." I challenge him with steel in my tone. "And another thing—you release all the people you've trafficked in exchange for your men. Today." Despite my facade of strength, a small part of me can't help but feel the ache of loss on his behalf. I may be a monster, but I'm not dead.
"Done," he says, surprising me with his quick agreement.
I hang up, my hands shake slightly as I put the phone down. The weight of what we've just done settles heavily on my shoulders.
"He's agreed," I say, looking around at the faces of my crew. Relief mingles with exhaustion.
"Good," Benjamin says, nodding. "Now we wait."
"Yeah," I murmur, staring at the cold concrete floor. "Now we wait."