For the Love of Luca

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For the Love of Luca Page 19

by Soraya Naomi


  Relief washes over me as I return to my original position. Nonetheless, I’m still left with a marriage that’s beginning to break.

  I CAN’T SLEEP AFTER Luca returns, so I’m already up and dressed with the kids before he wakes at eight-thirty.

  By the time he enters the living room, I’m almost ready to leave, and I’m standing at the kitchen island finishing my cup of Earl Grey while the twins wait in their bouncy seats. I watch his elegant fingers as he stashes his weapon in the back of his beige slacks, disguising it beneath his navy blue suit jacket. He’s clean shaven with his hair gelled back and there isn’t a trace of his lack of sleep or any troubles when his vivid green eyes meet mine. He’s put his façade back on, which is starting to annoy me.

  Needing to avoid him dismissing me, I get my gun from the counter and put in in my leather purse.

  Luca advances on me, stopping across the island from me. “Where are you going?”

  “Shooting range,” I answer and round the counter.

  He grabs my arm and draws me close, causing my gaze to land on his grip before slowly moving up as he orders, “You’re staying home.”

  Twisting free, I throw back, “No, I’m going to practice. I’ve been there four times, and it makes me feel safe to be more experienced.”

  “Do not test my patience, Fallon,” he warns, and I blink at his overbearing manner.

  Yet I need to continue with my lessons, even if he feels uneasy having me out and about. “I’m going with Michael. I need to practice for my safety. I’m not staying home. You can’t keep me in this gilded cage just so that you don’t have to worry.”

  He lets out a growl, not used to anyone talking back to him, and he moves forward like a predator as I edge backward. “Then I’m taking the kids.”

  I come to a stop, downright stunned. “What? Why? Aren’t you going to work?” To his precious club where he escapes our issues.

  He looks at my lips before his stare snaps up. “Yes, I’m taking them to the club.”

  I throw up my hands in frustration, having no idea how to deal with this manipulative side of Luca. Did he think that would blackmail me into not going out? If I have to stay here waiting for him one more time, I’ll actually go crazy. “Fine, then take them.” I get my coat from the couch and throw it on before pointing to their bag on one of the cushions. “Everything’s in their bag. I’m going to the shooting range.” As I pass him, I finish, “Now you can feel what it’s like to be the one who’s left behind in this penthouse.”

  Luca’s expression turns deadly and he hisses, “Fallon, make sure you’re with your guard at all times.”

  “Of course I will.” The elevator opens and I strut inside to spin around, leaving him behind for once.

  He clenches his jaw, our gazes colliding, and when the doors close, I clasp my shaking hands together and expel a sigh, hating that Luca and I are on opposite sides.

  Why can’t he give in just a little? He’ll never control everything or find any peace if we go on like this.

  EXHILARATION ALWAYS fills me after shooting practice. There’s something about holding a gun that makes me feel powerful.

  While Michael hasn’t pried today, he constantly keeps an eye on me as we journey back to the Loop. I’m pretty sure Luca has updated him about everything that’s happened.

  When we pass the skyscraper where I used to live before I married Luca, I suggest, “Let’s get a tea and something to eat at the coffee shop.”

  “Okay,” he says as I signal toward the right at a vacant spot, and he turns the wheel, easily parking his BMW.

  We get out and enter the busy restaurant where the scent of coffee and pastries wafts around. Round oak tables are scattered about and set up alongside the windowed wall, looking out to where the pedestrians are walking by on the sidewalk. Moving to the black bar up front, we order a cappuccino, a tea, and a piece of red velvet cake from the barista before we occupy a table at the window, seated opposite one another.

  As I shed my coat and hang it on the back of my chair, I reminisce aloud, “I met Luca in this coffee shop. Well, we actually met the day before at a bar, and then he accidentally”—I make air-quotes—“ran into me here. I was so innocent back then to believe it.”

  Michael’s lips turn up. “I can’t imagine you being a regular civilian.”

  “Neither can I anymore,” I confess, thinking about how my life has changed. Ultimately, for the better because Luca opened my eyes to how cruel the world can be.

  “I was surprised to hear when Luca got married. He never even dated,” Michael puts in when our order is delivered, so we smile at the waitress as she sets my tea and plate down.

  “He was very closed off when we first met, but there was something between us from the moment I saw him in the bar.” I fold my hands around the mug to warm my skin. “And Luca is old-school romantic; he would send me book quotes and he remembered small stuff like how Alexandre Dumas wrote my favorite classic. He also got me unique paperback editions, something he continues to do,” I confess despondently while memories of Luca showering me with a perfect combination of love, family, and special gifts barrage my brain. “I still can’t describe it.” Then I look out the window at the many couples holding hands as they pass the shop. “I think it’s the bond soulmates have, which is why his behavior breaks my heart. Because without him, I’m nothing.”

  Michael leans forward after I’m finished talking and grips my hand, like a brother would do. “I can see how much you two love each other, so why are you fighting?”

  “Did he tell you everything?” I ask when he sits back.

  “He told me that you informed him about the mention of dolcezza in the message after he discovered you went to Tez and that you now claim Tez lied to him and did find something on your phone.”

  So Luca hasn’t revealed what happened to Henry – he’s covering for me to protect me.

  “Why did you say that? Are you really sure Tez said something else to you?”

  “I’m sure,” I reply calmly.

  “This doesn’t sit well with me.” He rubs his mouth.

  “I know. I feel the same.”

  “Let’s be more careful the next couple of days and avoid Tez, okay?”

  “We have the party this Saturday,” I point out.

  “Fuck!” he grumbles. “I definitely think it’s best you don’t cause any issues on that day because Luca will explode. I’ll be there and will have a talk with Tez.”

  “I’m glad you’re saying that, because the rest of the Syndicate thinks I’m the unstable one. I can trust you, right? I need someone in my corner.”

  “You can trust me. But promise me that you’ll keep me apprised of everything or else I can’t help you.”

  I bite my lip. “Then you need to know one more thing. After I talked to Tez and he told me that someone erased a message on January tenth, I remembered Henry checked my phone that day, so I thought he had something to do with it. Then when I got home, Henry was at my door. I panicked when he was in my apartment and aimed my gun at him, but Luca caught me red-handed.”

  Michael’s brows shoot up. “Christ! That’s why Luca’s so livid. You do know you pulled a gun on Adriano’s successor?”

  I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t smart – I know that. And Henry denied everything, although I’m still not sure he’s innocent. But I am sure Tez has something to do with this mess, yet I feel as if I’m constantly defending myself; Luca didn’t understand my reasoning at all.”

  “Did Luca check your phone?”

  “No, that’s the strangest thing. He didn’t ask for my phone or tell me if he talked to Tez. He did tell me he would, but he’s being secretive. Luca shuts down the second he’s not in control, and then he tries to keep me away from Syndicate business because he believes it’s the only way to protect me.”

  Michael sips his cappuccino before explaining, “The problem is that you’ve created a he said/she said situation, which can cause difficulties within th
e organization. Luca’s most likely doing damage control.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Give me your phone,” he abruptly orders.

  I dig into my purse and then my coat but can’t find it. “I don’t have it.”

  “Luca took it,” Michael responds, causing me to frown.

  “How can you be sure? Maybe I left it at home?”

  “Trust me, Luca took it because he knew you’d be with me and he could reach you on my mobile. He’s verifying your story, so you better pray you’re right about what Tez said.”

  “I hope Luca does have my phone, but why couldn’t he have told me?”

  He sends me a disappointed glance. “Give him some slack. The Syndicate demands a lot from him too.”

  “I know,” I say, realizing that Luca probably would’ve informed me if we hadn’t quarreled. Then I tell Michael, “Let’s go. I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”

  I throw away our cups and my mostly uneaten cake and we drive to the Blackhall. With all this talk about everything that’s going on, I’m suddenly eager to be with my children.

  UNFORTUNATELY, AS THE sun sets, they aren’t home yet, but Michael is still at my apartment. And although I do find it odd that he’s stayed with me the entire time, he has kept me occupied.

  When the elevator finally opens, I expect Luca, but it’s Cam who strolls inside with the twins strapped in their car seat.

  “Hey, where’s Luca?” I blurt out, taking the seat from her and setting it on the U-shaped couch.

  “At the club. He asked me to bring them home.” She evaluates me, most likely wondering why I’m asking her about my husband’s whereabouts.

  A veil of concern settles over me. What did he find on my phone that’s making him avoid home, once again? Annoyance riots within me, and I grind out, “So when is Luca coming home? And what’s he doing at the damn club?!”

  Cam looks at Michael in shock before defending, “I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”

  My mind churns with angry sadness. “Because he doesn’t tell me anything!”

  “Fallon, calm down.” Michael widens his eyes, warning me to hold it together because the way I’m acting now supports the theory that I’m unstable.

  “What’s wrong?” Cam glimpses back and forth between Michael and me.

  “Nothing,” we answer in unison, and I turn toward the window, tuning everything out while Michael works on Cam.

  However, they both remain in my penthouse. Someone’s always with me, as if Luca doesn’t want me alone with our kids.

  More importantly, I’m completely unaware of what he’s planning behind my back while the waiting game continues.

  CHAPTER 23

  Luca

  “LOOK, IT’S THE EXACT same data I saw when she first came to see me. Nothing has been erased, like Tez already told you,” Henry explains, sitting behind the main computer in Club 7’s security room and gesturing toward the screen as I stand beside him.

  It’s clear that no one tampered with Fallon’s phone, which I got from her purse during our fight but forgot to tell her.

  Henry rotates in the desk chair to face me, taking off his black rimmed glasses. “Nothing corroborates what she claims, Luca. We’re having the same discussion as two weeks ago. And as I told you, it’s disconcerting that she pulled a gun on me.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I realize that, Henry.” Though I’d hoped that I’d finally discover some evidence to support my wife’s theory. Then I wouldn’t have to doubt her anymore, because it’s ripping me apart.

  However, once again, the opposite has happened, and my weakness for her has undermined me further. And I don’t think she believes I was here at the club all night to finish some paperwork either.

  At that moment, Tez enters the room after I have an employee summon him.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I evenly state while my gut tightens, “Tez, we have an issue. My wife says you gave her different information than you gave me.”

  His eyes round. “About what?”

  “About what you found on her phone.”

  Tez glances at the screen and then at the cable that’s connected to the mobile. “You’re checking it, so I’m sure you’re seeing the same thing I saw: nothing out of the ordinary, which I told her and you yesterday.” He sounds genuinely affronted. “Maybe she misunderstood me? Where is she so that we can clarify this?”

  “No, stay away from Fallon,” I hiss in a low tone.

  Henry and I lock eyes, and when Henry recognizes that I’m at a loss, he commands, “If she comes to you again, you notify Luca immediately.”

  “Sure,” Tez replies as I dismiss him with a flick of my wrist.

  Without any signs of hostility, he leaves the office, but something isn’t sitting well with me, although I can’t pinpoint what. Violently, I scrub my hand down my mouth while Henry regards me.

  “Have a guard trail Tez for a couple of days. I want to know anyone he talks to,” I order.

  “Fine. But, Luca, you have to do something about Fallon. More men are becoming involved, and it’s just a matter of time before Adriano finds out.”

  “What would you have me do?” I counter with a feeling of torment in my mind that won’t ease.

  “I don’t know, but it’s going to create major conflict if she keeps this up.”

  “I need a couple of days. After the club has closed, I’ll have more time for her and the twins.”

  “Okay, but make sure no one discovers what happened between her and me. Like I told you, I don’t want any accusations about me floating around this organization.”

  “I don’t need that either, Henry. That secret’s safe,” I assure him, and without another a word, I stride out while the blood rushes from my head.

  Each day, I worry more about Fallon. My love for her beats in my veins like a fever, but at present, it’s tainted with fury. I always rely on our usually peaceful relationship to drag me through the anarchy of this Syndicate, but the mayhem inside my penthouse is growing to proportions I can’t manage anymore. If any other member within my organization were to cause this kind of disarray, they would feel my wrath, yet she’s my wife. She’s the mother of my two innocent children.

  Regardless, her strange behavior, which has already resulted in one accident with Noah, is frightening me. Her normally graceful, intelligent demeanor has been replaced by wariness and distrust.

  This is what your Syndicate has made of her, a dark voice whispers.

  Torn, I reach the bar where two employees are stocking up for the party tomorrow night. I asked Cam to take the twins home, but I miss seeing their little faces so much. Though when I think about the possibility of another argument with Fallon, irritation rears up. Deep down, I wish I could lock my family up forever in our penthouse to shelter them from the cruelty of the outside world. An outside world which Fallon is beginning to distrust more and more, it seems. Since she truly believes what she thinks she saw and heard, I’m afraid of what could happen if she imagines other things. I couldn’t handle either of my twins or my wife getting harmed but have no idea how to protect Fallon without either breaking my bond with her or breaking my bond with the Syndicate. Action is required, yet I keep delaying it, trying to regain control but failing miserably. Under these circumstances, it’s impossible to be both a good husband and a good Mafioso, and right now, I’m not being either of them.

  I massage my temples as a guy places bottles of Jack Daniels on the bar counter. Although I’ve managed to avoid alcohol lately, I just need one drink to unwind. Rounding the bar, I dip down and get a whiskey glass and then drag a bottle over to me. With my hand on the top, I hesitate as visions of a giggling Milana with amber eyes just as fiery as Fallon’s dance in my mind.

  I set the bottle down when a female voice interrupts my thoughts, “Use this glass.” Simone glides a tall glass to me as she stops beside me. “So that it looks like you’re drinking something non-alcoholic.” And she winks wh
ile I merely stare at her before she struts away.

  Shaking my head, I stand there for endless minutes, trying to resist the pull of the liquor to drown out my problems for just a little while.

  To drink or not to drink?

  CHAPTER 24

  Fallon

  I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE that I’ve spent another night alone when dawn breaks on Saturday morning. Cam left late last evening after we had dinner together, and I haven’t heard from Luca.

  Throwing off the covers, I shift to the foot of the bed toward the wooden cribs to see the twins still sleeping. Smiling, I observe the differences in them. Noah’s lying with his arms spread wide and the blanket all tangled. But Milana’s sleeping with the covers tucked neatly around her and her arms close to her body, a bit curled into herself to make her look even smaller than her three months of age. Their bellies rise so fast as they inhale short breaths, which sometimes alarms me, but from what I’ve read, that’s how babies suck in air.

  I run my finger down Milana’s button nose and am filled with an eternal affection that manages to temporarily chase away my misery about Luca’s absence. Still in my white nightgown, I climb out of bed and tread to the kitchen to make some tea before I shower. Rounding the island, I click on the electric kettle, swivel around, and freeze when I see a familiar tall figure spread out on the couch.

  When did Luca come home? And why did he sleep in here?

  Luca’s suit jacket is tossed on the coffee table, his forearm covering his eyes, and he’s still wearing his shoes. Tiptoeing closer, I take in his disheveled appearance with his loosened tie and shadow of stubble, his thick black hair an untamed, flawless mess. Then I bend low but straighten just as fast because he reeks of alcohol.

  “Luca!” I stand there, arms akimbo. “Luca!”

  He jerks awake, his red-rimmed eyes snapping open as he fires up into a sitting position.

  “Where have you been?” I hiss as he blinks and blinks.

 

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