Athena
When Luciano finally hauled his ass home, it was late at night. He returned quietly, a valiant warrior with the shadows of death haunting his feet. I rose to my feet partly in caution and partly in excitement. I didn’t know why I was so fucking excited by the way. Perhaps I was just thrilled. Thrilled at the prospect of getting down and dirty with my investigation. If I played my cards right, I could ferret out just the information I needed. Like who the hell was after Luciano and why they were hell-bent on killing him. I had seen the shootout.
It was a bloody battle.
Despite the fact that the media hadn’t been able to get too close to the scene or get a solid visual, the blur we could see was informative enough. It was madness. And sheer stupidity if you ask me! How could a group of men shoot squarely at each other without the fear of getting shot to death? They seemed to fear nothing, aiming fearlessly at the enemy.
I watched Luciano walk into the living room, his gait proud as ever. Hell, I could barely tell that hours ago, he had been involved in a freaking near-death experience. He looked the same as he had left that morning. Dressed in an immaculately black suit. Not a spot of blemish or a scratch on it.
Had I been seeing things? Or was it because I terribly wanted to find something on him that I had thought he was a part of the shootout? No, no. Even Frederick had confirmed my suspicions that it was Luciano, there really was no proof. And even now, as I watched him approach, he looked fine. He must have changed suits.
“Hi!” I greeted cheerily, despite myself. Luciano was not to suspect that I was on to him. I had taken care of whatever CCTV cameras he had placed around the house that could have seen me try to pick the lock on his door. So I supposed I was relatively safe for now.
Luciano merely grunted in response, ignoring my presence altogether as he walked toward his room. Well, this wasn’t new. It appeared that grunting and acting like a damned animal was his defense mechanism. If he thought that would make me back down, he was wrong. That only intrigued me even further. I rose to my feet, following him as he made his way to his room.
“How was work without me today? Did you miss me, Luciano?” I teased, watching intently as he opened the door. There were monkeys involved. The lock was a false one to trick thieves into thinking there was a lock. In reality, it was a fingerprint scanner.
Fuck, that certainly did put a damper on things.
The door buzzed open. I made to follow him in but he turned around quickly, a stern look on his face.
“Go away, Miss Gonzalez,” He said brusquely.
My mouth dropped open involuntarily. Miss Gonzalez?! We were back to surname basis now?
“What is wrong?” I asked, hurt scribbled all over my face. I thought I saw his eyes soften for a minute but I must have been seeing things. The man before me was indeed irritated and angry. The recipe for an explosion of emotions was almost complete.
Keep pushing Athena.
“Nothing is wrong!” He snarled. “Go to your room.”
“Say please and maybe I’ll fucking consider it!”
Lucino tossed his head back in a harsh laugh, dark brown eyes wide with a crazy look. My stomach clenched at the sight, in partial fear. If I was being damn realistic, Luciano could hurt me here and now and possibly get away with it.
“And why exactly,” He said in a deep dark tone, moving swiftly and pinning me against the wall beside his bedroom door. . “-do you think you have the right to talk to me like that?”
“Every reason!” I snapped. “You left this morning like a thief and returned exactly as one.”
“Raven!” He growled, but I couldn’t care less.
“You’ve been avoiding me!” I spat.
“Woman, if you don’t quit yelling, I’ll turn you over my damned knee!” He threatened, glaring down at me in fury.
That did not sound like a bad idea, but I’d be damned if he heard that directly from my lips. “You would not dare!”
Luciano cursed under his breath, tossed me a scathing look before shoving me aside and walking into his room. Holding my eyes with a feral look, he slammed the door in my face.
Batard! I thought, gritting my teeth in anger. Heck, I wasn’t sure why I was so mad. Was it because he hadn’t fallen for my trap? Or because he had ignored me? Or because I had secretly wanted to be spanked and had hoped he would follow through with his threats.
“Yeah, right indeed!” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at the ludicrous thought. My eyes drifted back to the door and a part of me wondered what exactly was going on in there. Despite his perfect appearance, I had noticed him wince on several occasions as we talked. He was in pain.
Fuck, just how injured was he? What if he needed a doctor? I would hate to get tangled up in a murder investigation if he died or some shit like that. And if his men thought I had been responsible, even worse. They would hack me into a million pieces if they could. I was certain of that.
Sighing deeply, I stomped to my room, feeling slightly defeated at my own damned game. Oh, who the fuck was I kidding? Luciano Moretti was a levelheaded mafia lord. There was a reason why he had lasted in power more than all the mafia lords before him. He never acted on impulse. All his terms were carefully thought out, well laid out, and factor a series of possible things that could happen.
One could say he was paranoid. But after working with him in the past few months, I would say he had good cause to be paranoid. He seemed to have enemies everywhere. It would seem the FBI had another person to contend with when it came to making Luciano pay for his sins. But a paranoid person often made mistakes due to panic and a lapse of judgment.
Yet Luciano rarely did. He was meticulous, not paranoid. And because of that slight difference, it was going to be a hell of a time trying to bring him down.
It was a good thing I had over five years’ worth of resentment to hold on to, wasn’t it?
***
Guess who had to make dinner that night?
Me.
The house was eerily quiet. Luciano was holed up in his room, probably licking at his battle wounds and I, after almost dying from hunger, decided to invade his kitchen. He had the bare essentials. Eggs, milk, some bread and of course pasta. What was a full-blooded Italian man without his pasta?
As I cooked, I tried to connect all the dots, and piece all the clues together because, at this rate, I was near losing my damned mind. In Vegas, there had been some people after Luciano. Caldwell seemed to know them. If Caldwell knew them, then he had to be aware that Luciano was the lord of the mafia or was affiliated with the mafia somehow. How had Caldwell known?
Perhaps if I knew how Caldwell had found out, it would be easier to know where and how to get proof. Caldwell would most likely also know who was after Luciano’s life. Hence, if we could get our hands on Caldwell. We should be closer to finding exactly what we need.
After the Vegas fiasco, I was attacked a few days ago as well. From snippets of conversation between Luciano and Marcus, It was obvious the very same mastermind behind the Vegas attack was also the one who had sent those two pansies to abduct me.
They must have seen I and Lucino together in Vegas. I snorted, Did they think I was his lover?! What if Luciano hadn’t shown up? Heck, that jerk was as heartless as hell.
“But he came for you anyway, didn’t he?” A voice in my head supplied.
Now that was intriguing. I hadn’t given it a thought ever since that day. Why had Luciano appeared that day? No, scratch that. A better question was, How? How the hell had he known something was happening? How had he figured out where I was and appeared just in time to save me if he hadn’t been…. following me?
A loud ringing jolted me out of my thoughts.
“Ah, shit!” I swore, rushing to the pasta boiler so I could turn the gas off. An awful smell filled the kitchen and when I heard a door slam open, I swallowed, wary of what was to come.
“The hell?! Are you trying to burn down my house?!”