Lucca (Made Men #4)(65)
“Chloe, move!”
When she took a step again, this time toward him, his heart thudded in his chest, feeling like it was synced with hers. That’s it, baby, come to me.
“This way, Chloe!” Amo’s voice cut through again.
No! “To me, Chloe!” He needed her. She needed him. He had to hold her. He had to save her. He had dreamt of this moment for months.
If he saw her walk away with Amo yet again, he didn’t know if he would be able to handle it, not for a second time.
Lucca could see the indecision on her face, the choice before her. It frightened him to his core, the thought that she would choose Amo, knowing it would be the wrong one. His and Chloe’s souls were tethered together, twirling into one. He just hoped she could feel it.
Come to me and let me save you. I love you, Chloe.
When he watched her move toward him, he could have cried. She felt it!
Then he watched something change as she stared into his eyes. Fear. Fear of him.
He felt himself beginning to lose her when she looked back at Amo. It was like time had unfrozen while he watched in slow motion as she ran to the one she had chosen.
There was no heartbreak in this world that compared to his when she jumped into another man’s arms. One who didn’t belong with her. One who could never possibly love her the way he did. One who would never ever truly save her, because he didn’t even know her soul no longer belonged to her. A soul that could only be returned to her by him …
Holding her now, he could close his eyes without the nightmares, knowing she had finally picked him. Knowing that her soul was finally in his possession. He just had to wait until she was ready, until she was ready to fully accept what she had always been meant to be. His.
Forty-Four
As Ye Sow, So Shall Ye Reap.
“Put the cigarette out, Lucca,” Dante ordered, annoyed by the smell. They had been discussing the Luciano family’s fate, and he was already furious enough as it was.
Lucca flicked the ashes off his cigarette, ignoring the order.
Dante’s jaw flexed as he waved his hand in front of his face to get the smoke to dissipate.
A brief knock on the door interrupted the staring contest between the two men. The consigliere had arrived.
Vinny waited until the door closed behind him to say, “The Lucianos have requested a meeting.”
Dante took a swig of his glass, his attitude unforgiving.
The consigliere knew his boss too well.
“I think we should listen to what they have to say. If war is inevitable, then so be it, but if it can be averted by the Lucianos making amends, should we not at least listen to their offer?”
“No.” His father’s pitiless gaze moved to Lucca’s. “If she hadn’t been there, I would have fucking lit that place up.”
You mean, if I didn’t care about her. Taking a bigger hit, he blew the puff of smoke in his father’s direction.
“We might win the war, but there will be costs. Make sure you are willing to pay that price, Dante,” Vinny told him with finality.
Lucca put his cigarette out in the ashtray. “I say we hear what they have to say.”
After a few moments and a few sips later, Dante abruptly nodded his head.
Vinny opened the door, letting the three Lucianos enter. At least they were smart enough to keep their eyes down and respectfully bowed their heads to his father, while Dante’s ice-cold eyes pierced each one of their souls.
“Mr. Caruso, we are here to beg for your forgiveness.” Dominic took a step toward the desk, looking more disheveled than usual, which wasn’t saying much. His brown hair was messed up as if he had been running his fingers through it repeatedly, his dark beard that usually successfully disguised his sinister expression only accented it, and his tattoos under his V-neck muscle shirt showed starkly against his olive complexion.
All three of the men appeared as if they hadn’t slept.
Angel and Matthias’ hands were in their jacket pockets, both wearing stony expressions. Lucca knew their pride was suffering from having to listen to Dominic come to beg Dante for their lives.
“Why should I give it? Your father broke the contract to keep the peace between our families.” Dante slammed his fist down on his desk, causing the cigarette’s ashes from the ashtray to fly up into the air. “He murdered my wife!”
Dominic now looked into the cold eyes. “We had no knowle—”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Dante cut him off. “Lucifer and his men also broke into my home, took something that belonged to the Carusos, and almost killed one of my best men, who is still fighting for his life. Your father wouldn’t have given the same consideration to my sons, to my family!” The ferocity in his depths grew, along with the disgust on his face. “He didn’t even care if Sal would die trying to defend me. A son he didn’t want to claim because of the embarrassment of fucking a drugged-out whore, even though the Luciano family name was becoming extinct. But why am not surprised? If he didn’t care Sal was starving on the streets when he was a kid, why would he give a fuck when Sal was grown?”
Sitting there quietly, Lucca took out his lighter and began flicking it open and closed. They were to never speak about Lucifer being Sal’s biological father, not even Sal himself. He had only ever heard Dante talk about it once.