4. Luciano
Luciano
“So, let me get this straight: a woman with a baseball bat, who you say you don’t know, did all of that to your Range Rover?” Alessandro, my boss and the leader of the American Italian mafia, stares at my car through the computer monitor with a smirk.
Fucking asshole. Of course he would find this entertaining.
Hell, if I weren’t so worried about that girl, I’d probably be more amused, too.
But what if she got hurt when our guys grabbed onto her, or what if she got cut up from all the shattered glass?
She could be bleeding out somewhere, for all I know.
Irritation prickles at the back of my neck because why the fuck do I care whether she’s hurt? She totaled my car and then ran off. Why, though? Who was she actually after?
Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrow my gaze toward my boss and best friend. “Are you done?”
Alessandro chuckles and brings a cigar to his mouth. “What are you going to do to her?”
I hadn’t really thought that far. Right now, I don’t even know who the fuck she is or where I might find her.
My first thought is that I want to strip her naked and take my belt to her ass, but that’s not typically how the mafia handles someone who crosses us. Usually, it involves torture and death.
“It’s not important right now. Let’s get down to business,” I snap as I move over to the custom bar in Alessandro’s office to pour myself a hefty drink. “We have three shipments of diamonds coming in over the next few days, so we need to go over the logistics of transporting them to our buyers.”
Alessandro pulls his gaze away from the screen and smiles at me while I take a long drink of his most expensive whiskey.
“Sudden change of subject. This girl got under your skin,” Alessandro states.
The muscles in my throat tighten on a swallow.
I want to deny it. It’s on the tip of my tongue to do so, but Alessandro knows me better than anyone.
We were slated to be in these roles since before we were born.
He’s the closest thing I have to a brother, and even though he’s the leader of our syndicate and I’m second, he has never treated me as less than.
In his eyes, we’re equal, and that’s what makes us so strong.
“She was upset. Screaming about a cheating bastard or something. Who the fuck would cheat on her? Look at her,” I say, motioning toward the screen again.
Alessandro flicks his gaze to the camera footage one of our security men sent me almost immediately after I left the parking garage. “I’d say she was a little more than upset.”
The corners of my lips twitch. Yeah, that woman was downright pissed at whoever did her wrong. And I can’t wait to find out who her anger was directed toward because once I do, he’s going to wish she had gotten to him first.
Angelo knocks on the open door, several papers in his other hand. “Boss, we found the owner of the other Range Rover in the parking garage. Joshua Matthews. His address is listed here. We’re looking into him now.”
I glance over the vehicle registration that Angelo passes me. Other than one name and a home address, there’s nothing else helpful. But it’s enough for now.
When I look at Alessandro, he leans back and sighs. “Why do I feel like we’re about to bury a body that has nothing to do with us?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “I’m just going to pay him a visit. See if I can find the little vandalizer.”
The disbelief is clear on his face as he stares at me, but a second later, Alessandro reaches into the top drawer of his desk and pulls out his pistol. “Then let’s go ask Mr. Matthews some questions.”
Amusement spreads through me as my best friend slides his gun into the waistband of his dark blue slacks and rises from his seat.
Being this high in the ranks, it’s rare that we’re the ones getting our hands dirty.
But every once in a while, we get the itch to be out in the field, doing the type of jobs we did when we were young men, earning our way to the top. It makes us feel like teenagers again.
When we step off the elevator on the fifteenth floor of the middle-class apartment building, I stride down the hall. I slow as I approach the correct unit; shouting is coming from inside.
A woman.
“Dramatic? Are you serious? I’m going to kill you!”
Amusement spreads through me as the vision of the five-foot-nothing woman with curves for days who I saw a few hours ago comes to mind.
I should have figured I might find her here.
I was only hoping to find the fucker who’d crossed her so I could finish what she started.
Since it’s obvious he did something to deserve her rage.
“Open it,” I command one of our men and step back for him to silently pick the lock.
Once he’s done, I push the door open and stand in the threshold as the same woman from earlier hurls a rolling pin at a man who I hate the instant I lay eyes on him.
Definitely a lawyer.
A fucking snake.
And compared to the dark-haired beauty looking for something else to throw, he’s a fucking zero.
“Stop being a crazy bitch!” the man yells, blocking a spatula from hitting him.
His cheek is split open, which gives me immense satisfaction because either she hit him or something she threw at him did. It makes me proud as fuck. The feeling is overshadowed as quickly as it comes, though.
“Call her a bitch one more time, and I will slit your fucking throat and put it on a platter for her,” I say calmly. Evenly. Deadly.
The woman screams, her eyes so round I’m afraid they may pop out of her skull as she takes me in.
“Oh, God,” she murmurs.
My gaze lingers on her, raking over her body to first make sure she’s not injured. If this fucker so much as put a finger on her, I will lose my shit.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t answer me. Just stands there, staring at me and Alessandro like we’re aliens. Meanwhile, the asshole in the living room stands straighter, trying to look bigger than he is. Too bad he’s six inches shorter than I am and probably fifty pounds lighter.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demands, then turns his attention toward the woman. “Are you fucking him, Fallon?”
Something sharp flares within my chest. A possessiveness I haven’t ever felt before. I don’t even know this woman, yet the thought of her fucking anyone but me makes me homicidal.
“Do not speak to her.” I take a threatening step into the apartment. “Do not even fucking look at her. You’re dealing with me now.”
His eyes fall to my waist, where my gun is tucked into the waistband of my slacks, resting against my button-down shirt.
Normally I’d wear a suit jacket to conceal it if I were in public, but I don’t give a shit about hiding it right now.
It’s possible one of my bullets will be in his head by the time I leave here, anyway.
Holding his hands up, as if I’m already pointing my gun at him, he backs up slightly. “You can have her. She’s insane.”
A wooden spoon flies through the air, hitting the side of his head by surprise. “You fucking asshole! You cheated on me!”
“He cheated on you?” Alessandro snorts, and both their attention turns to him as he enters the apartment behind me.
I glance at my best friend and raise an eyebrow, smirking because I know this asshole is about to get roasted by the head of the American Italian mafia.
“I’m so sorry about your car,” she bursts out before Alessandro has the chance to say anything else. “I thought it was his. I’ll pay you back. I mean, I don’t have the money right now, but I’ll work it off. Somehow. Shit. Are you going to kill me?”
Her eyes flick down to my gun. Suddenly, I wish I had it hidden under a jacket because the last thing I’m here to do is scare her.
“You’re not paying for anything,” I say sternly, then point to him. “This asshole will pay for it. But you and I will be having a conversation about how fucking dangerous that shit was.”
As her mouth falls open, a gasp escapes her pink, glossy lips, and my dick stirs inside my pants.
“What are you talking about? What did you do, Fallon?” the guy growls, his voice strained. “Did you do something to my car?”
Fallon.
What a cute fucking name.
Adorable, actually.
Fallon scoffs and reaches into a drawer, pulling out a knife that is at least twelve inches long. “You cheat on me, and all you’re worried about is your stupid car?” she screams so loud it almost makes me take a step back.
Jesus Christ.
She’s fierce.
And holding a goddamn butcher knife.
“Put it down. Now.” My voice is low and even as I move toward her, while she tries to get to her cheating asshole of a boyfriend.
I don’t give a shit if she hurts him. As far as I’m concerned, he has it coming. But I don’t want her to accidentally harm herself in the process. That is completely unacceptable.
Fallon clenches her jaw and flicks her gaze to me before she looks back at the motherfucker who I already hate with every ounce of my Italian blood.
When she doesn’t immediately obey, my dick twitches again and my palm tingles.
It’s obvious this woman is a bit unhinged. And I hate how much I like it.
“Princess,” I say, quieter this time. “Put the knife down. Don’t make me take it from you myself because you won’t like the consequences if I do.”
“Jesus,” Alessandro huffs.
He’s amused. I’m never going to hear the end of this once we’re alone, but this woman is getting under my skin. She’s been under my skin since the second I laid eyes on her. And that is a major fucking problem. One I’ll focus on later.
Joshua scoffs, “Princess? He has a nickname for you? So you are fucking him.”
I draw my gun from my waistband and point it at his forehead, glaring. “Shut the fuck up before I kill you myself.”
As though the seriousness of the situation finally hits him, all the color drains from Joshua’s face and he swallows, taking a step back until he’s almost pressed against the far wall.
I move toward Fallon as her hand shakes, the knife pointed at him. Without hesitation, I wrap my hand around the cool metal blade. “Give it to me.”
My words are gentle but loaded with steel that she must hear, because she releases the handle and lets out a deep breath.
“I fucking hate you,” she sneers at him, then grabs a candle from the kitchen counter next to her and throws it across the room.
Joshua jumps to avoid it, and I chuckle because what a fucking pussy.
When I finally lower my gun and slide it back into place at my hip, Alessandro steps forward. “We didn’t introduce ourselves.”
Oh, he’s about to have some fun with this motherfucker.
“I’m Alessandro De Luca, and this is my partner, Luciano Ricci.”
All it takes is our names for recognition to show on Joshua Matthews’ face.
“Perhaps, being a lawyer in this beautiful city, you are aware of who we are,” Alessandro continues. “Am I right?”
Fallon’s eyebrows pinch as she avoids my gaze, once, then twice, before she meets my hard stare. Joshua knows who we are, but she doesn’t. She has no clue that the car she vandalized earlier belongs to one of the most dangerous and powerful men in the city.
“Y-yes,” Joshua answers, his voice shaking like a leaf. “Yes, sir. I know who you are.”
The corners of my lips twitch as I move closer to Fallon. “Is that your bag by the door? If you need to grab anything else before we leave, go get it now.”
Her lips part like she’s about to say something, but then she nods and disappears into what I assume is the bedroom. As soon as I can no longer see her, I turn my scowl toward the piece of shit in front of me.
“You know who we are, so I’m going to tell you, right now, that once we leave here with Fallon, you will never speak her name again.
You won’t talk about her, think about her, and you will never contact her again.
Otherwise, you will face me, and I won’t use my gun to kill you.
I will use every painful tool I can think of to take apart your limbs and send them to your family bit by bloodied bit. Do we have an understanding?”
I’m still not sure I’m not going to kill this guy. He cheated on a goddess of a woman. A woman who, for some reason I’m not yet sure of, I want to claim.