Chapter 26 – Luca
LUCA
The bass thrums through my chest as we push through the entrance of Onyx, the crowd parting instinctively.
Nobody looks directly at me, or at least the men don't, but I feel their awareness, the way conversations pause and resume, the ripple of recognition spreading through the room.
I came to show my face, to remind the other families that it's business as usual, and that the Calvano’s don't waver.
That the time is right to make a change.
And to make sure my father understands that too.
He's installed himself in the main VIP booth, arms draped along the back of the tufted leather sofa, holding court. There’s one woman draped on either side of him, laughing at whatever he just said.
His tailored suit is pristine, his silver cufflinks catching the light, but his cheeks are ruddy, and his eyes slightly bloodshot from whatever booze or substance he already has on board.
"Fucking shameless," Enzo says quietly behind me as our dear dad pulls one of the women forward for a kiss while keeping his arm wrapped around the other. Two guards block him from most of the room, but everyone fucking knows what he’s up to.
And to make the evening even fucking worse, cutting through the crowd toward us with a fucking glass of champagne and the swagger of a man who believes himself untouchable, is Orlando.
Sophia is on my cousin’s arm, watching my face for a reaction that she won't get. I couldn’t give a damn who she fucks.
Orlando sidles through the crowd, pressing the flesh, smiling and greeting people like he owns the place, reminding everyone he has my father's ear.
I tip my head, and one of the guards cuts off Sophia’s approach, much to Orlando’s annoyance.
But this is family business.
With a scowl, Sophia drops his arm and drifts toward the bar, chin held conspicuously high, conscious of being watched and whispered about.
"Luca." Orlando raises his glass in greeting, his bitterness coming through even over the thumping music. "I wasn't expecting you."
I stare at my father, waiting for him to finish slobbering all over his lady friend and come up for air. I was hoping he’d be here alone.
"Then you haven't been paying attention," I say quietly before turning slowly to stare Orlando down. “And I’m not here to see you.”
My cousin’s smile dims, but he holds it, taking a half step back from me, closer to his lap dog, Ignacio. "Your little bride swap announcement has ruffled some feathers. You should know that."
Orlando’s feeling brave here in the club, with his buddies watching, and too many people around for me to cause a scene.
Ignacio glares at me, standing so close to Orlando’s back that it seems a bit more personal than just protection. Taking in how angry he seems, it occurs to me that Sophia’s presence might be the reason he seems so hot and bothered.
"Like I could give a fuck."
Orlando blinks for a second then decides to ignore the warning carried in my tone that this is none of his fucking concern. "Your father was looking for you."
“Are you his fucking secretary now?” I sneer, still staring down Ignacio who has some nerve to still be standing in front of me. “This has nothing to do with you. I have no idea who the fuck told you that you belong here while I speak with my father, but you don’t, so get the fuck away from me.”
Orlando bristles, but keeps his mouth shut, while behind him, with a lingering look of pure hatred, Ignacio turns and walks away.
“Your son needs to remember his place,” I say loudly to Fausto, Ignacio’s father, who stands to the side, watching over my father as always.
“Luca…” Orlando attempts to placate me, but I loom over him, reminding him just who he’s talking to and how easily I could wring his scrawny fucking neck.
Nico’s smile is chilling as he steps up close to Orlando’s back, taking the spot Ignacio just vacated, making a Calvano brother sandwich that Orlando definitely does not want to be caught in the middle of.
Finally, my father glances up, his displeasure at our presence clear by the way he barely removes his attention from the woman beside him and her substantial assets.
"Luca. Nico. What are you doing here?"
Grinding my teeth, I turn away from my sly cousin and suppress the urge to remind my father that I’m the seventy-five percent owner of this club. It makes more sense for me to be here than him.
"Working. Same as you. And your… company."
One of the women makes to leave after seeing the look on my face. It’s well known that I don't let them turn tricks in my club. What they do in their own time is none of my business, but it doesn’t happen under my roof.
My father stills with a hand on her knee, keeping her there as a deliberate slight.
Enzo stays on the floor behind us, while Nico drops into the seat beside my father with the easy posture of a man who isn't remotely fazed by the suffocating tension.
"Tell me why you thought it was a good idea to humiliate this family by parading that woman in front of everyone," my father demands. "When you assured me just days ago that she was nothing to worry about."
He doesn’t like having anything less than full control over every aspect of our lives. Behind his calm demeanor, I can see the rage swirling.
"The alliance with the Irish has been protected by bringing in a neutral outsider.
By acting quickly, we prevent you from having to walk back commitments that would make us look disorganized.
" I parrot back the advice he’s drilled into me for years and years.
"The other families respect strength, follow-through, and fulfilled promises. "
He stares, angry at being all but called out because he had no intention of stepping down. He wanted the truce to appease the others and hoped that would be enough to keep him at the helm, not caring one bit that he’d be undermining me by canceling the plans.
"You're not the Capo yet, Luca," Orlando says, leaning a shoulder against the partition, arms folded.
I don't even look at him. "The heads have voted. The transition has been agreed. What's done is done."
My father's eyes flash. "Agreements can be reconsidered."
"Can they? Maybe. Should they? I'm not so sure."
He fumes silently that I dare to contradict him but he’s known for a long time that I'm no longer the obedient son he used to push around.
"Do not disrespect your father,” Orlando snaps, outraged, and I give him a withering look. Who the fuck does he think he is, telling me how to speak to my family?
“Shut your fucking mouth, Orlando. Or I’ll do it for you.”
"Careful," warns Fausto and it takes all the control I have not to tell him to fuck off too. As soon as my father is gone, his bulldog will be too.
"Orlando has done excellent work," my father continues, and there's a warmth to the way he speaks about him that he has never used to speak of his legitimate sons.
"The new clubs are thriving, and with the girl’s additional responsibilities, they're even more profitable.
It's the kind of innovative thinking this family needs. "
The rage that moves through me is cold rather than hot. I keep it locked behind my teeth.
"Running girls is a liability. Too many clients with too much to lose. One arrest, one witness who gets turned by the police, and our entire operation is exposed. You promised Mom. I want that shut down."
My father drums his fingers on the hard leather seat back while Orlando's lip curls. "Some of us aren't afraid to take risks."
I take a step toward him, and behind me, Nico shifts his weight. "And some of us are smart enough to know that if something's too good to be true, there's a fucking reason. You'll get us all thrown behind bars, and the feds will dismantle everything, piece by piece."
My father stands, his face darkening. "You don't give orders here. Not yet. I'm still the Capo."
He's stalling. More time to maneuver, to position Orlando more favorably, and to find a way to reverse the vote. I've seen it. We've all seen it.
Orlando straightens in his chair, triumphant now.
"Surely you can see how inappropriate this is.
A waitress. The girl's hot, I'll give you that, but come on.
" He glances at my father. "Perhaps when the wedding is done, and the alliance is secured, there's room to reconsider a more suitable arrangement. "
My father's attention returns to me, measuring. "After the wedding," he says with a dismissive wave, "when you've gotten what you need from her, will you be done with her? Will you find someone more suitable then? Or maybe, I need to see for myself what all the fuss is about first."
The volcanic rage I keep contained every time his mouth opens surges forward. He's testing me. Waiting to see if I'll reveal that Sienna is anything more than a convenient pawn.
Before I can get hold of my temper and find a measured answer, Nico's hand is at my elbow, his voice dropping low enough that only I hear it. "Corso just arrived." His eyes cut briefly to the entrance. "Says you're going to want to see this for yourself."
I look at my father for a long moment, briefly wondering how I could be related to such a lying piece of shit.
"Until after the wedding, then," I say, inclining my head in the barest gesture of respect. "Father."
I don't acknowledge Orlando as I turn and walk away.