Luca
I stand alone in Dominic's foyer, running my thumb across my lips where Elena's taste still lingers.
Stupid move.
Dangerous move.
But damn if it wasn't inevitable.
There are a million reasons I should let her go. For one, she has kids by someone else.
The thought should cool my blood, but instead, it ignites something primal.
Something possessive that's been there since the first time I saw her as more than a friend.
Before all the accusations. Before her father. Before Italy.
Elena Vitale has always been mine.
Even when she pushed me away.
Even when she believed I betrayed her family.
Even when an ocean separated us.
Even with three children who call another man father.
Mine.
The certainty settles in my chest.
I don't care about whoever fathered those kids. I don't care how much she tries to avoid me.
I'm done respecting space that shouldn't exist between us.
Realizing I’m supposed to be leaving, I propel myself out the door that Elena just exited from and down to my waiting car, wondering how I’ll convince her to give us another shot.
Sure, she kissed me back, proving she still feels something for me. But I think it unsettled her. And while she said she believed me, I’m not convinced.
Time for a new strategy.
I stare out the window as the car drives through New York streets taking me to my father’s downtown office.
For a time, I worked from his home office, but as his mind falters, it confuses him, agitates him to find me sitting at his desk.
Gabriella and I worked out a system in which she can keep tabs on him during the day at home, and I work at the office but confer with him in the evenings.
He’s still the Don, after all.
But I’m not thinking of work now.
I’m thinking of Elena hiding behind the tree. Elena’s stubbornness forcing me to beg for her belief in me.
“I believe you.”
But if she believes I'm innocent, why did she run off like she got caught with the enemy?
I have no doubt that she still intends to avoid me despite that kiss.
Is it that she still feels I played a role in her father’s arrest or is there something else?
What other reason could she have for treating me like I'm radioactive?
Is it the kids?
Their father?
Maybe it’s the family.
While Dom doesn’t have an issue with me, I know there are men who worked with his father who still look at me with suspicion.
They still see me as guilty and might see a relationship between us as disrespectful to her uncle’s memory.
The truth is, getting involved with Elena wouldn't just complicate my life.
It would create ripples throughout La Corona.
And I don’t give a shit.
I close my eyes, remembering the softness of her lips, the small sound she made before pulling away.
My chest fills with yearning so acute, I can barely breathe.
I know without a doubt that despite the years and distance and her children with another man, I can't walk away again.
Not without answers.
Not without her.
I realize that I've been passive, waiting for Elena to come around, waiting for someone to clear my name.
But Monti men don't wait.
We act.
If I want her back, I need to prove my innocence, show her and anyone else in the Vitale family who still harbors suspicions that I had nothing to do with her father's imprisonment and subsequent death.
Maybe I’ll go a step further and discover who really was behind her father’s arrest, who arranged his murder in prison.
I pull out my phone and run through the list of contacts I’ve copied from my father until I find what I’m looking for.
Joe Longo, Private Investigation.
In the past, Joe did a lot of work for my father.
Hopefully, he’s ready to work for me.
I dial his number.
“Joe Longo.” His graveled voice, probably from too much smoking, comes through the phone.
“Mr. Longo, it’s Luca Monti, Antonio Monti’s son.”
“Yes, I know who you are. How’s the old man?”
“He’s good,” I lie.
“Heard you live in Italy… The old buzzard is proud of you.”
My lips twitch upward. What son doesn’t like hearing his father is proud of him? “Yes, well, I’m back in New York and need help with something.”
“I can help,” he says confidently.
Where to start in proving my innocence? "I need everything on Umberto Vitale's case. The arrest, the evidence, who compiled it. Who is behind his murder.”
Joe lets out a whistle. “That case is what… five, six years ago? Isn’t it better to let sleeping dogs lie?”
“Not if it’s got a paw on my neck. I need to know if I was set up too.” If that’s the case, I could still be at risk. "Someone orchestrated Umberto's arrest and either by design or luck made it look like I was responsible. I want names. Proof."
"And if it was someone in your family? Or hers?"
My family? I can’t imagine it. The Vitale family? I’m more inclined to think it’s someone out of the families, out of La Corona, even, but I’m willing to face the truth, whatever it is.
"I need the truth."
“I have some contacts that might give me some info since the case is older. Could take me a little time.”
"How long?"
"A week. Maybe two." In the background, papers shuffle. "I assume you want this kept quiet?"
"Complete discretion. Not even my father can know."
“Well, you know if he asks, I can’t lie.”
“Of course.” But my father won’t ask. “This is important, Mr. Longer. I’ve lost seven years of my life from this. I won't lose another day."
"I'll be in touch."
When I hang up, I have a feeling of hope.
Like I’m moving in the right direction.
But clearing my name is only the beginning. Her children are a part of her life.
Part of the package.
If I want Elena, I need to show her I can be there for them too.
That I can protect them, care for them, be what they need.
The thought of taking on a father role fills me with a strange sense of purpose.
Those kids deserve a man who'll move mountains for their mother.
A man who understands what family means.
I just need to convince Elena.
She may run from me now, but soon she'll understand, I'm not the villain in this story.
And I'm done letting her believe I am.
We’re nearly at my father’s office building when my phone rings. Monti Shipping.
"Monti."
"Mr. Monti, it's Vince from accounting." His voice trembles slightly. "We have a situation at the docks."
I straighten, immediately on alert. "What kind of situation?"
"The quarterly audit… we found discrepancies. Large ones." He lowers his voice. "Someone's been skimming from the shipments. Nearly a quarter of a million over the past year."
My blood runs cold.
I have no doubt that someone thought they could take advantage of my father’s failing mind.
“Take me to the shipping office,” I tell my driver. Then into the phone I ask, "Who has access to those accounts?"
“Well… myself.” No wonder he’s nervous. “Davidson and Pascale.”
"Have you told anyone else?"
"No, sir. Came straight to you."
"Good. Keep it that way. I’m on my way. Make sure Davidson and Pascale are there, but don’t tell them I’m coming. Got it?"
“Yes sir.”
I end the call and sit motionless for a moment.
A quarter of a million is nothing to our operation, but isn’t that how skimming works?
Take a little here and there.
Not enough that anyone notices.
I dial Gabriella next.
My sister needs to know.
Unlike most Mafia princesses, my sister was allowed to pursue her interests and has a place in the business.
She’s got a law degree and did a great deal to keep my father’s business running over the last year.
“Uncle Luca.”
I hear noises in the background suggesting she’s doing something with baby Sabina.
“Just wanted to let you know that I’m on the way to the shipping office. Vince has found some accounting errors.”
She inhales sharply. "Who?"
"Not sure yet. He says Davidson and Pascale also have access to the records. Do you have thoughts?”
She thinks for a moment. “Pascale enjoys gambling and women, but I don’t have anything specific to suggest it’s him.”
“What about Vince and Davidson?”
“Vince has a couple of kids in college, but I just don’t see him stealing from us. To be honest, I don’t think he has the guts.”
The fear in his voice when he called me has me agreeing, unless it’s all for show.
“Davidson is newer. Don’t know him very well. No red flags that I can think of.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll be in touch. Are you with Dad today?”
“Marco is taking him to the casino today. He told Dad he wanted his advice on some part of the business.”
My father would hate being patronized like that, and yet, it’s an act of kindness that Marco finds ways to help my father feel relevant and respected as a Don.
I arrive at the shipping warehouse.
The security guard at the gate straightens when he sees me. "Mr. Monti. Wasn't expecting you today."
"Business came up." We’re waved in and my driver lets me off at the front entrance.
Inside the main office, I hear voices from the back room. I recognize Vince, but not the others.
I enter silently, catching them mid-conversation over open ledgers.
"—just need to adjust these manifests before the—" Pascale freezes when he sees me, his weathered face paling. "Mr. Monti. What brings you here?"
I smile, the kind of smile my father wore before someone disappeared. "Funny story. Our quarterly audit found some interesting numbers."
Davidson starts sweating immediately.
Vince looks terrified.
Pascale appears confused.
I step closer, my voice deadly calm. “A quarter of a million missing. Is it a math error or is someone using the Monti family as a bank?”
All three men look at each other and then me.
“It won’t take me long to figure it out,” I say. “I’ll check your financials. Your wives’ and kids’ accounts. Reach out to the clubs and hustlers you may owe money to.”
Vince looks like he’s going to faint, which doesn’t make him innocent, but he’s not about to confront me.
Davidson holds his hands out like he’s being robbed. “I swear, Mr. Monti, I don’t know anything about it.”
Pascale's hand twitches toward his jacket. Mistake.
I have my gun against his temple before he can blink. "Seven years in Italy improved my reflexes."
"Mr. Monti—”
"Shut up. Didn’t anyone teach you that stealing is bad? Especially from a family like ours?”
The resignation in his eyes tells me everything.
No denials.
No excuses.
"Didn’t our family treat you well enough?”
"Your father is dying. The business is at risk. I'm just securing my retirement."
I press the barrel of my gun against his head, forcing his head to tilt to the side. “My father isn’t dying.” He’s just going senile. “The business isn’t at risk at all except from you.”
"Your father would understand," he says.
"My father would have put a bullet in your head already." I step back, gun still trained on him. "But I'm not my father."
I see confusion flicker across his face, followed by the faintest glimmer of hope.
"I'm worse.” I pull the trigger. The sound echoes like thunder in the small room as Pascale's body crumples to the floor. Blood stains the papers scattered around him.
Vince and Davidson flinch, their eyes trained on me in fear that they’ll be next.
"This is how we deal with traitors." I holster my gun. "Now, let’s talk about your future."
I watch Davidson’s face as he processes what just happened, what I'm capable of. “Are… are you going to… kill us? I had no idea—”
“No. I’m not going to kill you. At least not today.” Okay, so that’s a little mean, but I don’t want them to get any ideas. “You're going to fix this mess. I’ll arrange for the body’s disposal, but you’ll clean up the mess, figure out who Pascale gave my money to, and let me know.”
“Yes, sir.”
I leave the warehouse without looking back.
In the car, I call for the clean up of Pascale’s body.
Then I sit back, watching the city pass by as I finally head to the office.
I won’t say that I enjoy killing, but there’s something about taking decisive action, protecting what’s mine, that fills me with confidence.
It wasn’t easy returning to New York, to go from the top man in Italy to Don Monti’s son again.
I’ve let myself fall into that passive position, not just with my father but with Elena too. No more.
I’m not the Don, but for all intents and purposes, I’m the head of the Monti family.
As far as Elena… well, she has no idea what's coming for her.
Neither does whoever betrayed her father and framed me all those years ago.
I am Luca Monti.
And I am done waiting.