7
LUCA
L uciano laughs, blood dripping from his lip. “Your old man teach you to hit like that?”
In the split second it takes for me to lunge at him again, Luciano is too quick. He swipes a right hook at my face, knocking me sideways. But I hit back again, taking Luciano down to the floor. Nobody, especially Verdi, will take me down.
Suddenly, I feel someone yanking me off him, while Marco is grappling at Verdi’s jacket, tugging him away from me.
Giovanni and Levi stand close by, and then I hear it.
Click.
We all freeze. The sound of heaving breaths and angry tension pierces the silence. We all look towards where the sound came from, and there she is, in all her glory.
Serafina stands over Luciano’s body with a gun pressed to his forehead. “I should kill you, just for trespassing, Verdi.”
He looks up at her, a bloody smile dripping sadistically. “Then do it.”
“Tell me why you’re here,” she snarls.
“Rumor has it Fontana and the twins are helping you. I had to see it for myself. ”
She shoves the gun against his face, knocking his head sideways. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Slowly, we watch Luciano push up off the floor, swiping at his mouth. He points a finger at Sera, glaring at her. “You won’t last at the top, Bianchi. Everyone is out for your blood.”
“I said,” she steps forward, aiming the gun at his chest. “ Leave .”
He laughs as he steps away before pushing through the door, leaving an ominous feeling in the room.
“Matteo, Marco,” she barks. “Make sure he leaves.”
In unison, the twins nod, tugging their guns out of their belts and following Verdi out of the room. I’m still reeling in the aftermath, adrenaline punching through my system. I wasn’t finished with him.
“How the fuck did he get in here?” Levi asks.
“Find out,” Sera orders, handing Giovanni his gun back. She turns to me, her eyes honed in on my face. “You good?”
I don’t answer her. My tongue traces my lip, where I can taste the blood. My face fucking aches, but that’s the least of my concerns. I’m a good fighter at the worst of times, but Verdi caught me off guard, and I’ll never forget that. I’m good with my fists, even better with a gun.
When I look at Serafina, there’s some level of understanding between us. I perceive it as more than that, though. It’s respect. That I stepped in when nobody else did. That I reacted when the fucker was talking shit about Donna Bianchi. Something snapped inside of me when Luciano mentioned my father, but I was already twisted up inside watching Levi and Sera’s interaction. Something has changed between them—and witnessing it elicited something that felt a lot like jealousy.
Levi regards us both before stepping out.
“Sit,” Sera orders me, reaching for the ice bucket holding her champagne bottle. She dips her hand into it, pulling out some ice cubes and wrapping them in a napkin.
I silently comply, taking a seat next to Sera, wincing when she presses the ice to my cheek. The pain subsides as it numbs beneath the ice, but the way Sera gazes at me has my heart rate kicking up a notch .
“You know I’m sorry about your father,” she murmurs, sliding her gaze to where she’s holding the ice against my face.
“I know,” I assure.
She chews on her lip, glancing at Giovanni in the corner. He watches closely, but I don’t miss the way he’s solely focused on his boss, observing our interaction, her reactions .
Fuck, does he want her too?
What is it about Serafina Bianchi that has all the men in her inner circle tripping over themselves?
I don’t need to ask myself that, though. Not when the answer is staring me in the face. Her brown eyes are contemplative as she shifts the ice against my cheekbone. She’s as tough as she is tender, as fierce as she is gentle. And the more time I spend around her, the more I’m struggling to reconcile the resentment I feel toward her with the undeniable attraction.
“I know you still blame me, and?—”
“You need to stop worrying about what people think of you,” I mutter, cutting her off before she can apologize again.
I don’t need her apology. I need my father back. I need a goddamn rewind button on the last few weeks so I can go back and take out the Verdis before they even have the chance to pull the trigger.
Sera’s stunned into silence, withdrawing her hand from my face as her brow furrows, a little crease appearing between them.
I grab her wrist before she can retreat too far. It’s not meant in a harsh way, but I see Giovanni move forward anyway, prepared to step in.
“Like you, you mean?” she scoffs, snatching her hand away.
“That wasn’t about me, was it?” I accuse, raising a brow at her.
She frowns, unable to meet my gaze. Then she slides a glass of whiskey across the table. I think it’s Matteo’s but I don’t care, I take it from her and finish it off anyway.
“Luciano might have said all that shit, but it was to hurt you , not me.”
“So why did you react?” Her eyes narrow, suspicion blazing in their depths.
Damn, she’s got me there.
“I’m on your side,” I reply simply. “He was talking shit about you, and I’m not a fan of assholes who pick on women. After what he did to you, I’m surprised he isn’t already dead.”
Her body goes rigid as her eyes flicker over me. “You know?”
I tilt my head. She really thought that was a secret? “Everyone knows.”
She shudders at my revelation. That steely confidence she exuded before slowly diminishes, leaving a timid girl in its wake. But she doesn’t need to be like that. She’s fucking fierce. She just held a gun to a man’s head and gave the fucker a second chance. Weak people don’t give anyone second chances. It’s the strongest of people that consider another’s life. It takes a leader to do what she did. It’s not a weakness—at least not in my eyes.
“I wish I could’ve pulled the trigger,” she mutters, reaching for another paper towel. She presses it to my lip, dabbing at the cut I can feel there.
“We both know that wouldn’t have brought you any satisfaction.”
“Maybe not,” she shrugs. “But you got a couple of hits in.”
I flex my fingers, feeling the faint pain in my knuckles. I won’t deny that it felt good to feel the crunch of his cheekbone beneath my fist. The fact that he’ll be sporting a shiner for the next week has a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
“You can always take out some of that rage on whoever let him in here, if Levi finds them.”
She nods. “He will.”
“So confident in your second in command.”
“As I should be.” She pins me beneath a hard stare, her eyes not betraying whatever I saw pass between her and Levi before Luciano showed up. It’s still eating at me, though—the notion that there’s something going on there, and the sick twist of jealousy I feel churning in my gut at the thought of it.
“It must be strange, adjusting to having someone new by your side,” I say casually, watching her every move, searching for her tells. “Someone other than Enzo.”
She flinches at my mention of him. “It wasn’t by choice.”
I see the pain swimming in her eyes, recognizing it because I feel the same thing every day. We both lost someone when the Verdis attacked. I’ve been so focused on my own grief over my father, choosing to blame her when I haven’t really considered the fact that she’s grieving, too.
“Levi’s a good man,” Sera breathes, pressing the ice to my cheek again. “He’s already proven that he’s more than capable of being my second.”
I study her eyes while she avoids mine, focusing instead on the bag of ice pressed to my face. I don’t miss the concealed meaning. There’s more to it than she’s actually saying and while a part of me wants to know what has happened between them, I don’t think I can bring myself to ask. I need to let this layer of jealousy subside before I go down that route.
“You two seem… comfortable ,” I mutter, unable to stop myself from voicing the reason I was agitated before Luciano even showed his face.
“We have known each other since we were children. He’s Enzo’s cousin,” she shrugs like that’s the answer I was searching for.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Her eyes narrow on me. For just a second, I think she’s going to slap me. Instead, she huffs, and mutters, “Whatever you’re insinuating isn’t any of your business, Luca.”
“Isn’t it?”
Sera frowns, causing that knot of jealousy in the pit of my stomach to twist.
“If we’re working together, I think I should know whether Levi’s going to jump in front of a bullet for you like that lovesick fool, Enzo.”
Sera jolts to her feet, slamming the soggy napkin full of ice to the floor. It smashes on impact, shards of ice scattering on the floor tiles around her shiny Louboutin heels. “Don’t you dare talk about him like that!” she shouts, her eyes ablaze with fury. “Enzo was my best friend. He was the best man I’ve ever known! An honorable man, a loyal man, and it was because of that loyalty that he…” she trails off, her eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears. “He…”
She shakes her head, turning away from me.
“He died, Sera. Say it.”
Her shoulders shake with a sob, and I’m beginning to feel like the biggest jackass.
“Fuck you, Luca.”
I blow out a breath, rising to my feet slowly. “You have to accept it,” I say gently, stepping toward Sera and placing a hand on her shoulder.
Giovanni edges closer, a look of precise warning directed at me.
“It’s the only way you can move forward,” I assure. “The only way you can avenge him without getting yourself killed in the process is to accept it, admit it and avenge it.”
She shrugs my hand away, wiping at her cheeks as she turns around to face me again. “Have you accepted your own father’s death?”
Well, isn’t that the million dollar fucking question? In short, the answer is no. The longer, more convoluted response is yes.
“I’m trying to.”
We both stare at each other for a long moment, a flicker of understanding passing between us.
Grief is a powerful thing. It can break people. I’ve been drowning in my own, but working to set a plan in motion to exact retribution for my father’s death has helped me to channel that into a sense of purpose. It’s given me a reason to go on.
But looking at Sera, I can tell she’s still drowning.
Fuck, maybe it would be good for her to have something with Levi. Maybe he can be her life raft. Maybe he can be the positive distraction for her.
“I’m sorry,” I say, setting aside my own selfish jealousy. “I shouldn’t have said that about Enzo.”
Sera’s throat bobs with a hard swallow and she draws a deep breath, standing taller, holding her head high. Looking every bit the leader that she is. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have,” she says calmly. “And anyone in my inner circle should be willing to take a bullet for me, anyway. “
“Exactly. And whatever is going on between you and Levi is none of my business,” I add.
Sera rolls her eyes, sniffing away the remnants of her tears. “I’m too damaged for anything like that.”
“Damaged?” I frown. “Is that how you see yourself?”
She doesn’t answer vocally, but the shrug of her shoulders is enough for me to recognize the vulnerability she’s sharing with me.
I take a seat, watching her finally relax now that I’m not so close to her.
Giovanni relaxes slightly, too, like the biggest threat was me upsetting his employer.
“Damaged people are the most dangerous, you know that?” I say, pouring out another helping of whisky.
Sera scoffs, still watching me intently. “How do you figure that out?”
It’s something I’ve always been aware of. The fight left in people when they’ve lost everything. “Damaged people know how to survive.” I shrug, placing the bottle on the poker table. “So use Enzo’s death, use Luciano’s words, use the hate you have built up in there,” I point to my chest, “and don’t stop until the world is burning at your feet. You’re Donna Bianchi. If anyone is going to set the world alight, it’s you.”
Her shoulders roll back, like I’ve just given the words to fill her empty battery and spur her on. “I am Donna Bianchi,” she announces. She looks so fierce, so powerful in that moment that I see it—the reason Enzo was so willing to step into the line of fire for her. Sera is a force.
“True to your name,” I smirk, sipping from the glass.
“What?”
I look up to meet her wide gaze, her mouth agape with curiosity. “Your name. It means fiery, right?”
“Or angel, depending which way you look at it.”
I laugh at her words, shaking my head in disbelief. “You’re anything but an angel, Donna Bianchi. Only the devil takes down the enemy. ”
She slides into the seat next to me, swiping the glass from my hand to take a mouthful. “I guess now is the time to find the matches then.”
I give her a nod, showing her the respect she deserves, the respect I can’t help but feel for her no matter how much loss I feel is from her doing. “And Enzo’s death?”
“Don’t push it!”
I smirk feeling the edge of our tension slope off. There’s an easy atmosphere between us now, even with Giovanni standing in the corner. I’m not convinced that Serafina enjoys the silent bodyguard staring daggers at her twenty-four-seven, but I have seen the subtle shift in her confidence when he’s around.
If anyone is going to protect Donna Bianchi, it’s clear to see she has more than one man on her side. I’m yet to be convinced of her bodyguard, though. Up until now, I’ve never heard of him, yet Levi and her father have already expressed how loyal and dutiful he is. If it weren’t for the silence, I’d be asking questions. I don’t trust the glaring looks, or the quietude. It leaves a bitter taste on my tongue, because I’ve been brought up to understand so many things; where there is silence, there are secrets.
And I bet Giovanni has a fuck ton of them.