CHAPTER 27
The Vescari Club didn’t sleep.
Not even this late.
It was past midnight, and the place still pulsed with quiet luxury shadows and whispers tucked between the velvet booths and crystal glasses.
The scent of bourbon clung to the air, layered with cigar smoke and faint cologne.
Soft jazz drifted from the overhead speakers, low enough to let secrets pass between teeth unnoticed.
Luca stepped inside without a word,His jacket hung from one shoulder, shirt sleeves rolled, the line of his jaw tight and hands at his sides. He didn’t glance around like a guest would, he moved like someone who owned the room but enough not to let eyes linger and get noticed.
His eyes flicked across every face.
The bartender. The hostess. The man tucked in the corner with a drink too expensive for his suit. Another figure passing through the hallway behind the bar someone quick to avoid eye contact.
The club was alive, but something about it was off.
Luca could feel it.
He walked toward the far wall, pausing near a tall mirror lined with gold trim. It gave him a wide view of the lounge without turning his head. A woman laughed behind him. A bottle clinked. A door opened and closed to his right , someone slipping into the private corridor.
His phone buzzed once in his coat pocket.
Luca pulled it out without flinching, He glanced at the name, hesitated, then answered his gaze flickering around the club.
Grayson.
He glanced at the name, hesitated, then answered.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, Luca. You got a second?”
Luca’s eyes scanned the hallway, lingering on the security camera mounted at the far corner. “Make it quick,” he said, calm but clipped.
There was a pause on the other end, then Grayson’s voice softened a bit. “It’s Mia.”
Luca’s head snapped down slightly, shoulders tensing.
“What about her?”
“She’s been distracted. All week,” Grayson said carefully. “At first, I thought she was just tired. But it’s more than that.”
He crossed toward the back lounge darker and quieter. A single round table in the corner stood empty. He stopped beside it, fingers resting lightly on the chair, but he didn’t sit.
“Define ‘more.’”
Grayson let out a slow breath. “She’s present, but she’s not really there. She hasn’t finished her last three reading assignments and when I ask her questions, she gets quiet. Says she’s fine, but I don't think she is.”
Luca sat down heavily in the leather chair, his fingers tapping the edge of the wood.
“what do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” Grayson admitted. “She won’t say. But whatever it is... it’s on her mind constantly. I can see it in her face.”
Luca was silent for a moment.
His thumb tapped against the side of his phone slowly.
“And you're sure it's not sickness again?”
“No. Physically, she’s fine. Better, actually. Eating more. Sleeping normal hours. But her head’s somewhere else, I also caught her drawing something the other day and she hid it so fast ".... he paused then continued... "it looked like someone's portrait, I didn't see it who's it was though.”
Luca leaned forward, elbow on the table and knuckles against his mouth.
“Luca didn’t answer immediately. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, jaw tight. “Alright. Just keep an eye on her. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“You’re not coming tonight?”
“No.” Luca’s voice was low. “I’ve got things to finish here. Tell her I’ll see her in the morning.”
“Will do.”
Luca ended the call without another word, sliding the phone back into his coat pocket.
He wanted to go home and be with his sister but he couldn't leave even if he wanted to. He wanted to get out of here with something... anything..because if he didnt it would put all of them in danger including her .
He stood in the upper lounge, overlooking the main floor below through a thin strip of tinted glass. One hand wrapped around a glass of something he hadn’t touched. The other rested on the inside of his jacket where the weight of his holster always sat. Still. Steady.
He'd been here two hours now.
He moved through the floor slowly, unhurried, ignoring the flirtatious glances from the lounge girls and the curious stares from younger men.
Then something shifted in his peripheral view, the door near the side hall opened.
Luca didn’t move, but his eyes followed.
Nino.
Wearing an olive jacket, head down like he didn’t want to be seen.
Luca didn’t approach. He turned slightly, enough to keep Nino in his view without drawing attention.
Nino didn’t go to the bar.
He bypassed the main room completely. Moved toward near the staff corridor.
Then... someone else stepped forward.
A man Luca didn’t recognize.
Late thirties. Clean cut. Not flashy, but sharp — the kind of sharp that tried not to stand out. His suit was tailored and his shoes polished.
Nino and the stranger shook hands casually.
Then Nino passed him something small.
Luca’s jaw locked.
He moved toward the stairs, calm and fast, eyes never leaving them. They hadn’t seen him yet. He took the back route, one floor down, weaving through a corridor lined with old photos and cigar smoke.
When he reached the corner, they were gone.
He stopped.
Silence. Then a door clicked one of the private rooms. Not a storage closet. One of the meeting rooms but he couldn't approach, there were guards.
Two stationed by the hallway entrance, leaning casual against the columns, but their eyes were alert. One more near the bar, pretending to polish a glass. Another at the far corner, talking into an earpiece while pretending not to look their way.
Luca paused by the bar, casual, and leaned one arm on the counter.No way to get close.
"Drink?” the bartender asked
Luca didn’t answer. He was watching the reflection in the long mirror behind the bottles then pulled out his phone.and sent a message to Marcello.
Nino made contact. We have a face but it's unknown I've never seen him before, it may be the Dante guy Antonio was working with ...
he slid the phone away trying to think of something to do.
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
He couldn’t get close. But maybe…
He shifted slightly, catching movement from the corner of his eye. A waitress passed behind him tall, red hair tied back in a low bun, slim waist in the club’s fitted black uniform. She set down a tray of empty glasses, then paused to grab an order slip from behind the counter.
Her name tag caught his eye.
Gianna.
Luca pushed off the bar and followed her with quiet steps, not far just until she turned toward the VIP booths again. He caught up beside her near the low-lit hallway.
“Gianna?”
She blinked, surprised he knew her name. Then she glanced down at her tag and gave a cautious smile.
“Yeah?”
Luca stepped close not enough to make her nervous, but enough so that she could hear him against the music .
“You want to make ten grand tonight?”
She froze, half-smile fading, eyes narrowing. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“Half now,” he said, pulling out a folded roll of crisp bills. “The other half when you come back.”
“…Back from where?” Gianna said hesitant, Then took the bill.
She opened it with one hand, fingers practiced inside, a thick stack of crisp bills
" There’s a room near the end. Two men. One in a dark suit. The other olive jacket. You bring them a round on the house, act like it came from management.”
Gianna stayed still, fingers tight on the tray.
“You want me to spy on them?”
"Yes.”
A pause. Her eyes flicked back toward the hallway. Then back to him. “What am I listening for?”
" Names. Plans. Anything that doesn’t sound like a friendly drink between old friends that's all.”
She bit her bottom lip for half a second, then looked down at the cash. “What if they don’t say anything?”
“Then you come back and tell me that. You still get paid.”
“Is this going to get me in trouble?”
Luca’s voice didn’t shift. “Only if you run your mouth after.”
Gianna met his eyes.
And something there... something still and deadly beneath his calm...made her spine straighten.
Then she nodded once and tucked the envelope into her apron.
“I’ll bring you what I hear.”
He gave her the faintest nod. “Good girl, remember you tell me exactly what they say.”
Gianna’s throat bobbed then turned heels clicking, heading for the back bar. Moments later, she reappeared with two glasses of top-shelf scotch, crystal clear over a single cube each, balanced and polished.
Luca watched her weave through the lounge as she disappeared down the hallway.
Then he waited.
The music thumped faintly around him, but his focus was locked like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.
Minutes later....
Gianna found Luca exactly where she’d left him tucked into the shadows of the back hallway, one foot crossed over the other, his expression unreadable.
She walked straight toward him, face calm, but her fingers twitching against the hem of her apron.
“They didn’t say much,” she whispered.
Luca raised an eyebrow. “ what did they say ”
Gianna looked up at him , her voice low.
“One of them, the guy with slick hair and a bad tie... said something like: ‘black said Matteo is locked.’”
Black ... Who's black,.. Luca thought
Luca’s jaw tightened slightly.
She went on. “And the other guy... the one with the olive coat... he was... I don’t know, jittery. He kept looking over his shoulder. He said, and I quote: ‘Friday is a distraction. They’re hitting customs when everyone’s inside.’”
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “That’s all?”
“Basically. They started talking quieter after that. I didn’t want to risk staying too long.”
He reached into his coat and handed her the second roll of bills.
She hesitated, took it quickly, then turned and disappeared back into the crowd without another word.
Luca stood in silence his brain processing what he was just told.
Matteo is locked.
That meant they had a man at the port someone placed.
Friday is a distraction...... So the Mexican shipment wasn’t the target. It was a cover, but for what..... And hitting customs.......that meant the wolves were going for something else while their concentration was elsewhere, likely the awaited Mexican shipment.
Luca exhaled through his nose, eyes tracking toward the far end of the club. His expression didn’t change, but his stance then he shifted this shoulders slowly as took out his phone to text his Don.
This was bigger than they thought.