Luca
He turned to find that her composure was cracked—not shattered, but close to it. Her fingers were still curled against the edge of the table, her knuckles pale, and her breathing uneven despite her efforts to control it.
“No,” he breathed.
Her eyes flashed immediately. “You don’t get to—”
“No,” he repeated, sharper this time. “You’re not setting foot anywhere near that place.”
“That’s my father,” she snapped.
“And that’s exactly why you’re staying here,” he said.
“I’m not staying behind while you—” she started. He admired her fire, but there was no way that he’d let her go with him to track down her father.
“You are staying behind,” he insisted. The words cut clean, and he considered them to be final.
She stepped toward him, her anger burning through whatever fear she had left. “You don’t get to lock me in here like some prisoner—” Luca moved quickly, closing the distance between them in two strides.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low and lethal.
“Whoever has him wants something, and right now, I’m betting that something is you.
” Silence hit hard, and her breath caught.
“Taking you there?” he continued. “That’s not going to save your father.
We’ll be handing them exactly what they want, and then, they’ll kill you both. ”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue, not immediately, at least. That was good. It meant that she was thinking. “I’m not sitting here doing nothing,” she said finally, quieter now—but no less stubborn.
“You won’t be,” Luca said.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What does that mean?”
“It means you stay here and you can be my eyes and ears,” he said, “where I can control the situation.”
“And if I don’t?” she asked. That was a mistake. She was challenging him, and Luca could feel his gaze darken.
“You don’t want to test me right now,” he warned.
“Why not?” she asked. There it was—the fire and defiance that should’ve irritated him more than it did. Instead, it pulled at something in him. Something dangerous.
Luca stepped closer, careful not to touch her, not yet. He stood close enough that she couldn’t ignore him. “Do you trust me?” he asked. The question landed harder than anything else he’d said to her so far. Her lips parted and then closed. She was silent.
Luca watched her carefully as he measured the hesitation in her eyes. He felt as though he was counting the fucking seconds. “Answer the question, Isabella.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “No, because you won’t like my answer,” she breathed. At least she was honest.
Luca nodded, “Good,” he said. “Because you shouldn’t trust me.
” Her brows drew together slightly as though his statement confused her.
“You don’t know me,” he continued. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.
And right now? That’s the only reason you’re still standing here arguing with me.
” Her breath hitched. “You think I’m the bad guy in this? ” he added quietly.
“Aren’t you?” she asked. It was a fair question, but a dangerous one. Luca held her gaze.
“In your world?” he said. “Yeah. But in mine? I’m the one keeping you alive.” Silence stretched between them before he continued. “If you come with me,” he said, “you die.”
The bluntness of it stripped everything else away. There was no sugarcoating this for her. He wanted to give her no illusions, just truth. Her eyes searched his. She was looking for proof that he was lying, but she wouldn’t find any there.
“Then bring me back proof,” she said, her voice steady again. “Bring him back—alive.”
Luca didn’t answer right away. Because that wasn’t something he could promise her, and they both knew it. “I’ll bring him back if he’s still worth saving,” he said finally.
Her expression faltered. “There’s always a catch with you, isn’t there?” she asked.
“No, it’s just reality,” he corrected. She looked away first this time, and Luca turned back to Dante. “Get the team ready,” he said. “Full sweep. I want eyes on every surrounding building. Snipers on rooftops before we move in.”
Dante nodded. “Already in motion, boss.”
“Good.” Luca grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair, sliding it on with practiced ease. Every movement was precise, controlled, and focused. He was war-ready at all times.
“Ten minutes,” Dante added.
Luca nodded, and Dante hesitated. “What?” Luca asked.
“There’s something else,” Dante said. “A message came through the same channel as before.”
Luca’s attention sharpened. “Say it,” he ordered.
Dante’s eyes flicked briefly toward Isabella—then back to Luca. “They said if you come alone, he lives.”
Isabella’s gasp filled the room. “Then go alone,” she almost shouted at him.
Luca didn’t even look at her. “No.” If he walked in there alone, he’d be signing his own death certificate.
Her frustration spiked instantly. “Why not? If that’s what they want—”
“Because it’s a lie,” he snapped. He turned to her and saw the anger in her eyes.
“They don’t just want me alone,” he said.
“They want me vulnerable.” He stepped closer to her.
“They want me walking into a death trap with no backup.” Her lips parted—but no words came out.
“Men like that don’t make deals,” he continued.
“They make examples, and this one will be made out of me if I do as they order.” The reality of it settled in her eyes.
“So what happens now?” she asked. Luca adjusted his cuffs, his expression going completely unreadable.
“Now?” he said. A slow, dangerous calm settled over him. “Now I remind them who they just threatened.” He turned toward the door and paused, just for a second. Without looking back, he barked an order to his second in command. “Lock this room down,” he ordered. “No one gets in or out.”
Isabella’s breath caught. “Luca—”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. And for a fraction of a second, he let himself imagine that she actually cared about him, and not just her father’s safety. “You wanted answers?” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” she breathed. His gaze held hers.
“Then, you’re about to get them,” he promised. He walked out, and the door shut behind him, leaving Isabella alone in a room that he was sure suddenly felt a lot more like a cage to her.
The city blurred into something sharp and meaningless as the convoy cut through the streets.
Luca didn’t look out the window because he didn’t need to.
He knew every turn, every street, every shadow this part of New York could offer.
He’d built his empire in places like this—dark corners where men made bad decisions and paid for them in blood.
But tonight was different. Tonight, someone had made a very bad decision.
He sat in the back of the SUV, his elbows resting on his knees, his gun broken down and reassembled in his hands with quiet precision. It was muscle memory and complete control because he was always in control.
“Perimeter’s set,” Dante’s voice came through the comm in his ear. “Snipers are in position. East and west rooftops are covered.”
“Thermals?” Luca asked. “Are they showing anything?”
“Yeah, we have confirmed movement inside. At least eight guys, maybe more. They’re shifting positions.” Good, that was just what he wanted to hear. Let them move and believe that they were ready for him.
Luca slid the magazine into place with a sharp click. “They’re expecting us,” Dante added.
“They’re expecting me,” Luca corrected. And that was their first mistake—believing that he was stupid enough to show up alone.
The SUV slowed, headlights cutting across rusted steel and broken pavement as the abandoned warehouse came into view.
The Hudson loomed dark beyond it, silent and endless.
He knew that it was more than just a river—it was a graveyard.
There were more bodies buried in those waters than he’d be able to count.
It was fitting that they were meeting there.
“Kill the lights,” Luca ordered. The convoy went dark instantly, leaving the engines idling, like beasts waiting for battle.
Luca opened the door before the vehicle fully stopped, letting the cold air hit him like a warning, but he stepped out anyway.
His boots crunched softly against the gravel.
The warehouse stood ahead—massive, and empty-looking, but he knew better.
Men like these didn’t hide in plain sight unless they wanted to be found.
And they wanted to be found. That meant one thing—they thought they had the upper hand.
Luca adjusted his jacket, rolling his shoulders, “Positions,” he said quietly. His men moved like shadows—silent, efficient, and deadly.
Dante appeared at his side. “Are we going in loud or quiet?”
Luca’s gaze stayed fixed on the building. “Neither.”
Dante smirked faintly. “I like where this is going.”
Luca stepped forward, alone, out in the open, no weapon drawn, and no hesitation.
Dante cursed under his breath. “Boss—”
“Hold your position,” Luca said without looking back, as he kept walking straight toward the front entrance. Because if they wanted a show, he’d give them one.
The warehouse doors creaked open before he even reached them. Predictable. Luca crossed the threshold without breaking stride. Inside the dim lighting, he noticed the concrete floors, the scent of oil, metal, and blood. Yeah, it was definitely blood. That smell was unmistakable.
His eyes adjusted quickly, and he immediately spotted the men who were watching him, armed, and spread out around him. They were waiting for him to make a move, but he wasn’t in a hurry. People who rushed were careless, and careless people ended up dead.
At the center of it all sat a chair, and tied to it was Antonio Romano. Dante was right—he was still alive, but barely. Luca looked him over once. He was bruised and bloody, but still breathing—for now, and that was good enough for him.