6. Luca
Luca
Sarah didn’t say a word on the way home.
For ten straight minutes, she stared out the passenger window while rain streaked across the glass.
She’d done a good job hiding it at lunch.
She did better than most people would’ve.
She laughed with Katie, gave Mikey shit every chance she got, and hugged my mom and Carmela before we left.
To anyone else, she probably seemed fine.
The second we got home, she disappeared into the house. I followed a few minutes later and found her in the kitchen loading the dishwasher. She stood up when I walked over. I kissed the side of her head, brushed my hand across her back, and headed for the den. If she wanted to talk, she would.
That was an hour ago. I’ve been sitting in the den with a football game on.
“You want to eat dinner with me?”
I glance over and find her standing in the doorway, holding a pizza box with paper plates stacked on top and wearing one of her oversized sleep shirts. The thing is at least two sizes too big. According to her, no expensive brand on earth has figured out comfort the way Walmart has.
I shake my head and grin. Then, I hold out my hand.
“Get your ass over here.”
Her face lights up, and she comes over to the couch, setting the pizza and plates on the coffee table. She grabs the remote from my lap, sits down beside me, and changes the channel to Netflix.
I don’t even bother giving her shit for it.
The game was on, but I couldn’t tell you who was winning. I’d spent the last twenty minutes listening to the dishwasher run and wondering whether she was eventually going to come find me.
When she leans over to open the pizza box, her hair falls into her face. I reach over and tuck it behind her ear before she can. Her eyes flick up to mine for a second before she turns her attention back to the pizza.
A minute later, she hands me a plate.
“You’re always trying to feed me first.”
“I have to make sure you stay strong enough to protect me.”
A smile pulls at my mouth.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Baby Girl.”
“I don’t know.” She hands me a plate before grabbing her own. “You do forget to eat sometimes.”
“Maybe I do it on purpose.”
She narrows her eyes.
“Oh yeah?”
I pull her closer until she’s tucked comfortably against my side.
“Maybe I like you taking care of me.”
The teasing leaves her face almost immediately.
“I do like taking care of you.”
My hand slides into her hair, and I tilt her face toward mine. Her eyes drift closed before I even kiss her. When I do, she makes a quiet sound and immediately kisses me back. One hand settles against my chest while mine stays buried in her hair.
When I pull back, her forehead bumps lightly against mine.
“You feeling better?”
She nods, so I kiss her once more.
“Good.”
The next morning, I press a kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed.
I leave her exactly where she is, buried beneath the blankets and dead to the world.
I know better than to wake her up. I made that mistake once near the beginning of our relationship and learned a valuable lesson.
Sarah before seven in the morning is not the same woman I live with the other twenty-three hours of the day.
Instead, I send her a text when I get to the estate to pick Mikey up.
Me: Morning, Baby Girl. Enjoy your day off. Love you.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket and get out of the SUV. Maria already has the front door open by the time I make it up the steps.
“Morning, Maria.”
“Good morning, Mr. Luca. Mr. Amato is waiting for you in his office.”
I nod and head inside.
The house is already awake. Staff moves quietly through the halls carrying fresh flowers, folded linens, and trays of coffee.
Sunlight pours through the massive windows lining the back of the house, casting long shadows across the marble floors.
Somewhere upstairs, I hear a vacuum running.
Outside, groundskeepers are already working their way across the property.
A place this size never really stops. There are people here before sunrise and people here long after midnight. Somebody is always cleaning something, fixing something, maintaining something. The estate looks effortless from the outside, but it takes a small army to keep it that way.
Most days, I don’t even think about it. I’ve been walking these halls since I was a kid. Back then, I used to follow Mikey around the house because I wanted to be wherever he was. Twenty years later, not much has changed.
I make my way down the hallway and stop outside the office. After one knock, his voice carries through the door.
“Come in.”
I step inside. Mikey is sitting behind his desk. Marco occupies one of the chairs across from him.
“Boss. Marco.”
They greet me with matching nods, and I take the empty chair beside Marco.
Marco closes one folder and reaches for another.
“Frank Esposito called this morning. He requested a meeting.”
Frank isn’t the type to ask for a meeting unless there’s a reason for it. Most captains handle their own problems. By the time something reaches Mikey’s desk, it’s usually because somebody needs an answer only he can give.
“About Tony?” Mikey asks.
“Yeah.” Marco opens the file in front of him. “Tony got jumped three days ago. He’s been in the infirmary since then.”
I’ve known Tony most of my life. Everybody has. He’s married, has three kids, and has been serving his sentence without causing problems. Hearing he got into a fight would be one thing. Hearing he got put in the infirmary is something else entirely.
Mikey leans back in his chair.
“How bad?”
Marco slides a photograph across the desk.
“Four broken ribs. Fractured orbital bone. Concussion. He’s set to be released back into general population tomorrow.”
Mikey studies the picture for several seconds before setting it back down.
“Do we know who ordered it?”
Marco glances down at the report.
“Rocco Moretti.”
Mikey’s jaw tightens.
“Why?”
“Tony refused to move product for him.”
Rocco has spent the better part of twenty years building influence inside prison walls. He’s got people working for him in multiple facilities and enough connections on the outside to make himself a constant headache.
Mikey folds his hands on top of the desk.
“Get ahold of Vincent.”
Marco nods.
“I’ll do it after we’re done here.”
“No. Do it now.”
Marco doesn’t hesitate. He pulls out his phone and sends a text. Mikey’s eyes never leave the photograph.
“I want every source of income Moretti has inside those walls cut off.”
Marco looks up, but Mikey isn’t finished.
“I want every favor he’s owed called in. Every debt collected. Every person working for him reminded exactly who keeps them protected.”
Marco types another note into his phone.
“Okay.”
“One more thing.”
“Boss.”
“Tell Vincent I want the favor returned.”
Marco nods once, and just like that the conversation is over. Mikey sets the photograph aside.
“Now tell me about the family.”
Marco flips to the next page.
“Frank’s daughter-in-law picked up a second job. Between the kids and everything else, she’s struggling.”
A frown pulls at Mikey’s face.
“Why?”
“Her HOA went up. The kids’ sports club tuition is costing more. Things like that.”
The organization has been supporting Tony’s family since the day he went inside. Mortgage payments. School tuition. Medical bills.
Mikey leans back in his chair.
“Double it.”
Marco’s pen pauses.
“Double it?”
“Did I stutter?”
“No.”
“Good. Double it. Pay off the mortgage too.”
Marco writes it down.
“Anything else?” Mikey asks.
“The oldest boy has been getting into trouble at school.”
Mikey shakes his head.
“Set Frank up with whatever he needs. Tutors. Counseling. I don’t care. Figure it out.”
Marco makes another note.
Tony made mistakes. Everybody in this life has. The difference is that Tony took responsibility for them. He took his plea deal. He went inside without making problems for anybody. Men like that don’t get forgotten.
Mikey looks at Marco.
“Set the meeting for tomorrow.”
Marco nods.
“I’ll call Frank.”
Mikey reaches for his coffee.
“Tell him his family is taken care of.”
“You got it, Boss.”
Mikey stands and picks up his suit jacket from the back of his chair. Marco and I get to our feet as well. Years ago, I probably would’ve waited for him to say something. These days, I know the routine. Once Mikey starts putting on his jacket, the meeting is over.
We leave the office together and head down the hallway. Staff step out of the way as we pass, and Mikey immediately starts directing traffic the way he always does.
“Marco, I want you to go down to Harbor Street. Make sure everything is running smoothly. Then I need you at Amato Towers.”
Marco nods.
“Enzo will drive you.”
“Sounds good.”
Mikey adjusts the cuff of his jacket.
“Call me if there’s a problem.”
“There won’t be.”
The confidence in Marco’s voice earns the slightest hint of a smile from Mikey.
Once we’re in the SUV, Mikey immediately pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. I have no idea what he’s looking at, and honestly, I don’t want to know. The man is responsible for more businesses, employees, properties, and people than I can keep track of on a good day.
It’s one of the few benefits of being the son of the second-born Amato.
Nobody is looking to me to run an empire.
Nobody is expecting me to make decisions that affect thousands of people.
I have my responsibilities, and they’re significant enough.
Watching Mikey carry the weight of everything else is more than enough to make me thank God every day that my dad wasn’t born first.
“Where we headed, Boss?” I ask as we pull away from the estate.
“I’ve got a meeting at Dominico’s with Governor Phillips.”
I glance at him in the rearview mirror. He’s already back on his phone, scrolling through emails or reports or whatever fresh problem is waiting for him today.
“How’s Sarah?” he asks.
“Uh, good.”
“Katie seemed worried about her on the way home last night.”
Shit.
“Yeah. She had a migraine. She tried playing it off, but I guess it bled through. She’s feeling better now.”
I keep my eyes on the road as I say it. It’s not technically a lie. Sarah did have a headache by the time we got home.
I glance up and catch Mikey’s reflection in the mirror.
“That’s good,” he says.
“Yeah.”
I turn onto the main road and settle into traffic. Mikey glances up from his phone.
“You still heading to Montana this weekend?”
“Yep.”
He nods once.
“Sarah excited?”
I laugh.
“She’s been talking about it for weeks.”
He gives a small chuckle.
“What’s she got planned for today?”
I shrug.
“She’s got the day off, so I have no idea.”
That gets his attention. I catch his eyes in the mirror.
“What do you mean you have no idea?”
A smirk pulls at my mouth as I switch lanes.
“I know this is a difficult concept for a guy like you to grasp, Boss, but I don’t actually monitor my girlfriend’s whereabouts every second of every day.”
Mikey stares at me for a second. We both know exactly what I’m implying. Katie could tell him she’s running to Target for shampoo, and somehow he’d know what aisle she was standing in twenty minutes later.
“Fuck you,” he says.
I grin and focus on the road. I’ve known Mikey long enough to know that’s about as close to admitting I’m right as he’s ever going to get.