Athena
Max pulled up before Luciano’s building and I dashed out before he tried to talk to me. He had done so all through the entire trip and I had kept mute like my lips were sewn together. I had to hand it to him though, he was resilient. Too damned resilient. He kept chattering the whole drive home despite my ignoring him.
Stepping into the elevator, I wondered what to say to Luciano so I could go into my room early. Wouldn’t that be even suspicious? He would want to know why.
Ah, shit.
Hiding things from him now that he was being all affectionate and clingy was going to be way harder. What the hell was I supposed to do now? I had spent way more than the thirty minutes I had promised to at the cafe. He was probably already pissed about that.
Wonderful.
I wanted his attention, but not like this. Not so much that the work I had to do would be affected.
The elevator doors opened and taking a deep breath I walked to the door of the penthouse and had barely knocked when the door flew open, a stern-looking Luciano standing on the other side.
“You’re late,” he growled.
I rolled my eyes. “Well hello, mother. I’m home now.”
“Don’t get sassy with me Gonzalez,” he spat.
“Damn! Calling me Gonzalez? You’re pissed!” I teased.
“Si! I am.” He snapped, grabbed my arm, and yanked me inside the house. “Are you hurt? Did anything happen on the way?”
“Nothing happened, will you stop fussing?!” I asked, shaking his hold off me. This was getting too much and I wasn’t sure I liked it anymore. He was being too nice. It was too damn suspicious.
“Fussing?!” He reared back in disbelief, shock scrawled all over his face. “I never fuss!”
“You just did,” I said sweetly with a smile.
“No!” He bellowed, stepping away from me as if I had just burned him. I watched his eyes darken in anger and he pointed a finger straight to my forehead. “Never use that word around me again.”
I watched him turn his back and storm out of the living room like I had just set his ass on fire. If that wasn’t as amusing as hell. He seemed rather scandalized at the thought that he, a mafia overlord, could do something as frivolous as fuss over a woman.
Well at least that got him off my back, I thought as I rushed to my room. Reaching between the mattress of my bed and the wooden frame, I fished out a burner phone I used to contact Frederick only in times of emergencies and grinned.
There was a message notification and I could tell it was from Damian. The letter I had dropped contained the only means by which we could contact each other. Meeting physically was much too dangerous, especially with Luciano’s men constantly around me in the name of protection.
I made to answer Damian’s text when my eyes flitted to the door. I usually locked it, but Luciano had a spare key. If he opened the door and I tried to hide my phone, he would get suspicious. With another sigh for the umpteenth time, I stalked to the bathroom. At least here I would know if he stepped into the room first.
“Why didn’t you wait behind?” His text read.
“Why? Wanted to have another chance at harassing me?”
His reply came in almost immediately. “Finally, you texted. I was starting to think you gave me the wrong number just so you could run off to the Maldives or some shit like that.”
Maldives?
“Whatever. What is the deal you spoke of?” I asked.
It was best to get down to business as soon as possible. I didn’t have much time to talk. Anytime soon, Luciano could barge in here.
“Straight to business, I see. Must be easier for you. Do you know the hell I went through to get that waitress off my ass?”
I almost burst into a full-throated cackle of triumph but held it in instead. “You deserved that for harassing me yesterday. I do not have much time!”
“You’re dying?” He asked and I could imagine the smirk on his face when he sent the text. Smug bastard. I couldn’t decide if he was more infuriating than Luciano.
Nah, my mind countered. No one can be more infuriating than Luciano. All I had to do was picture my father and I would simply be mad at his presence. I was surprised I had lasted this long without trying to gut him.
Fuck! When was the last time I had the thought of gutting him with my hairpin? My hand reached up to my head, feeling for the hairpin. I hadn’t worn it.
“Fuck!” I whispered, “I’ve gotten comfortable.”
“Hello? Are you dead?” Damian texted, breaking me out of my reverie.
“No. I am not. Get down to it. What do you want?” I demanded, getting irritated with the banter. I wasn’t here to trade words or make friends! I was here for revenge. My fucking revenge!
“I want what you want. Revenge on the mafia. They took precious people away from me and deserve to die. Luciano deserves to die.”
I agreed with him but somehow his words left an uncomfortable ache in my chest.
“I want revenge too,” I texted in reply. “But we can’t kill him just yet. Taking down Luciano doesn’t mean taking down the mafia. If Luciano had died yesterday, the headlines would simply read, CEO of Moretti Industries, and everyone would still love and cherish him as they do now.”
“In case you didn’t know, I just snorted. Who the hell loves that jerk?”
I dragged a hand down my face rereading the message he had sent. He had to be the most easily distracted person in the universe. “That’s not important,” I typed furiously. “What’s important is that we expose Luciano for who he is. Expose core members of the mafia. That’s what’s important!”
For a long while, I waited for a reply. That was my goal, wasn’t it? That was the point of this whole charade I was forced to play in. I’d get Frederick his information. The FBI would handle the rest while I handled Luciano.
My phone vibrated and when I glanced down I saw Damian’s text.
“You’re right. That’s what’s important. I hadn’t thought about things that far.”
He used ‘I’, which meant he was working alone. I had a niggling feeling that he was one of the Castello attacking Luciano. But with the way he had been speaking, he didn’t seem to belong to an organization. A solo assassin? And to think he had almost succeeded. Damn, he was good.
“Luciano’s mine to kill though.” I typed. “You can get your revenge, take down the mafia by finding evidence or dirt on him. But when it comes to ending it all, it’s all on me, got it?”
“Aye,” he texted in reply. “Kill him all you want. As long as the mafia’s down, I’m good.”
“Great,” I mumbled. Now we had to discuss our next plan of action.
“What’s the best evidence that can be used against him?” He asked.
“Videos, photos. Those ones are almost incorruptible once confirmed that they aren’t edited. Documents would work too but I doubt Luciano has evidence of him committing a crime in a document.”
“True. I’ll provide the external support you need. I know a bit about the mafia and where records are kept.”
“They keep records?!” Well, that was surprising.
“They do.”
“Do I even want to know how you know this?”
“Perhaps I’ll tell you the story another day. However, those records are all the way in Italy.”
“What The hell?!”
“You didn’t think Luciano’s base was here, did you?”
Well…I had? That would explain why the FBI was unable to uncover the central base. It was never in America to begin with. It was all the way in fucking Italy.
“I don’t suppose there’s a way we can get to Italy.”
“It is highly unlikely,” I replied. Fuck, Italy must be crawling with evidence of Luciano’s crimes. There has to be a reason why he was here and not in Italy instead.
“We may need to catch him in the act instead then,” Damian suggested.
” I’ll supply Information from within.”
“Aye. Keep me updated on his movements. I’ll need to know everything.”
“I’ll tell you what you need to know. And Damian?”
“Yes, milady?”
Flirty idiot, I thought with an irritated sigh before texting. “Once Luciano’s out of the picture, the deal is off.”
“Sure thing sweet,” he replied.
Satisfied, I walked out of the bathroom, turned off the phone, and fixed it between my mattress and the wooden frame before sighing in relief.
I would update Frederick on the progress of things later. For now, I needed a hot shower, and a board to draw a damned map because shit was starting to get a bit complicated.