Lucca (Made Men #4)(48)

She was his soulmate.

“You will never deserve Chloe. The same way Nero will never deserve Elle. Nero will spend the rest of his life trying to, but I won’t let you try and deserve her.

“I wanted her so badly that I actually wanted to trade places with you for those seven months … But not anymore. Now, you have to look at yourself in the mirror every fucking day for the rest of your life and see what a disgusting piece of shit you are. That’s why I’m not going to kill you.” Lucca removed the blade from his throat, but he still made Amo stand there like a wounded animal, not releasing him just yet. “I want you to live every day knowing that I’m with her and you’re not. Knowing that she belongs to me and me alone. To die little by little every time you see us together, just the way I did when I saw her with you.”

Now, he’s broken.

The hope Amo had, the same hope that had shown in his eyes, for being so close to being with Chloe was so small now compared to when he had first gotten here. Lucca didn’t want it gone completely, though, or it wouldn’t hurt him as much when he looked in the mirror every day, or at Chloe, or even at Lucca.

Turning away from the broken man who was now hunched over, only being held up by the wall at his back, the broken man who could no longer look at him from the shame he felt, Lucca went back to his desk, from where he watched Amo in pity.

He pulled out another cigarette and put it to his lips, lighting the end with the flick of his wrist. “Get the fuck out of my face and don’t ever step foot in my home again. Come anywhere near Chloe without permission, you’ll never see her again. Lay your hand on her, and I’ll keep my promise to rip out your fucking throat.” Taking a hit, he shooed him away. “You are dismissed.”

Struggling, Amo pushed himself off the wall, holding his damaged hand to his body while he left. He didn’t say a word; he didn’t have to. His face said it all. Amo was losing the girl he loved to Lucca and was now feeling her slip from his fingers.

Running a hand through his hair, his own words hit him like a ton of bricks. What it felt like when I thought I might lose her before I could even save her.

He had felt that true fear twice. Each time she had survived, it was the most peaceful and heavenly feeling … Only for it to kill him when he had to watch Amo be the one to console her.

You would think that the first time would have been the worst, but the second time had been just as excruciating, heartbreaking, and unbearable.

To die little by little every time you see us together, just the way I did when I saw her with you …





Thirty-Three





Praying to the God He Didn’t Believe Existed That She Was Still Alive





Months Earlier…




Lucca was watching the casino floor, his mind elsewhere. Chloe was here at the casino hotel, in Nero’s penthouse, hanging out with the girls. She was so close, yet so far away.

Every day that he waited for her, he knew it was another day closer. But to him, it always felt like an eternity.

The phone ringing in his pocket had him pulling it out to see it was Nero calling. He answered it immediately, putting it to his ear.

Before he could even speak, Nero asked hurriedly, “Lucca, where are you?”

A sinking feeling hit his heart. His instincts knew something very wrong was happening, and somehow, he felt Chloe was involved.

He was already moving toward the elevator. “First floor.”

“The girls … Someone broke in. We’re in the elevator …” Nero seemed to lose all hope as his voice trailed off.

The phone fell out of Lucca’s hands as a sharp pain dug into him, right in the chest.

Changing directions, Lucca headed toward the emergency stairs since Nero was already using the elevator. He hit the door, causing it to fly open as he started running up the stairs, running as fast as his legs could take him. Don’t You fucking do this to me! he began cursing God, a figure he had not believed in for years.

There were twenty-three floors.

I haven’t touched her yet.

Twenty-three floors that separated them.

I haven’t felt what it’s like to kiss her.

Twenty-three floors he had to climb to save her.

I haven’t told her I love her.

Each flight he climbed, a number passed, telling him how many more he had to scale.

Don’t You dare fucking take her from me!

Not once did he stop, not once did his body slow. His mind and body were strong, willing him to reach the top, while his heart began to compress inside his chest. A heart that shouldn’t beat, because he didn’t have one. A heart that only beat for Chloe. A heart that was rapidly collapsing in fear of losing her.

Eleven …

He was halfway there now. It seemed to take forever. His only hope of Chloe living was in the hands of someone else reaching her soon. Save her, Nero. Someone else saving her who wasn’t him, no matter how much it was killing him. Save her, Amo.

Fifteen …

The numbers seemed to blur by, along with images of the future they were supposed to have together.

Nineteen …

Chloe sat smiling in the middle of the garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers.

Twenty …

His hand running through her long, silky hair.

Twenty-one …