Lucca (Made Men #4)(75)

Lucca backhanded her across the face, effectively shutting her up.

“Not another fucking word out of your fucking mouth unless I address you,” he sneered.

You could see Elaine’s fear now as she realized she would not be able to talk her way out of this.

Lucca walked over to the counter, picking up a briefcase and placing it on the table in front of them. Then he adjusted his arm, making his black suit jacket rise up as he looked down at his watch.

Staring at the demon in front of him, who was dressed in an expensive, black Italian suit, Maxwell felt the impending doom. I’m going to die.

Lucca set a cell phone down on the table in front of the briefcase. “Before I forget, where do you keep your chili recipe?”

“Huh?” Maxwell stared at him, not sure he was hearing him right.

“Your chili recipe. I want it. Now,” he demanded from Elaine this time.

Maxwell stared in horror as Lucca grabbed a fistful of Elaine’s hair and slammed her head down onto the table when she didn’t answer fast enough.

“I don’t know!” A trickle of blood ran out of her nostrils. “I don’t do the cooking anymore!”

Maxwell lost control over his once again full bladder, and he pissed himself when Lucca turned toward him.

“Lana’s recipes are in the cabinet by the stove.”

As Lucca walked away from them, Maxwell twisted his neck to see Lucca take the recipe box out of the cabinet. Then he watched as the boogieman went through the recipes until, with a smile of satisfaction, he found the one he was looking for, putting the rest of the recipes back in the box and leaving it on the counter.

When he returned to stand next to them, tears were burning Maxwell’s face. Even his wife started crying when Lucca cut one of the zip-ties off one of her arms, then turned to do the same thing to one of Maxwell’s.

“Listen up; I’m only going to speak my instructions once.” Lucca moved to the side, opening the briefcase.

If he hadn’t already pissed himself, Maxwell would have then at the sight of what was inside the case. His wife was crying as hard as he was now.

Lucca pushed a button, triggering a light to go from red to green. Closing the briefcase, he then twirled the tiny numbers on the handle. “You have five minutes to get yourselves loose. Then call Chloe; she has the combination. If you don’t have enough time to get all the ties off, Chloe is your only chance.” He set a disposable phone on top of the case.

Neither of them turned to look at Lucca when he left with the recipe. Maxwell had already started struggling to get the tie off his free hand. When he did, he quickly lunged toward the phone, still zip-tied at the ankles.

Grabbing the phone, he dialed Chloe then held it shakily up to his ear. He heard one ring after another, wondering if she would ever pick up. Fucking answer!

Finally, when the phone was answered, they both screamed her name, “Chloe!”

A deadly voice came through the line, making Maxwell lose control of all his bodily functions. “Sorry, Chloe’s busy.”

His eyes went to the suitcase as flames engulfed his skin.

Maxwell had sold his daughter’s soul to the devil to escape Hell, only for the boogieman to send him straight to Hell in a ball of flames.



The naked man in the corner of the room sat up slowly, using the pipe he was chained to and grimacing as he did.

Lucca stepped closer to the bloodied man, his eyes scanning the hundreds of knife cuts that had been given to him.

Every single mark he had given to Chloe meant fifty for him.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Lucifer’s black eyes took in his attire. “You killed her parents.”

Lucca nodded. “You were right; they did give her to you.”

Lucifer’s maniacal laugh had blood spitting out his mouth before his ominous gaze went back to his. “Did it help?”

“Some,” Lucca admitted. “But we both know it never gets satiated.”

“No, it doesn’t. Not for men like us.” Lucifer smiled evilly, clearly remembering a fond memory.

Looking at the scar that had almost taken out the devil’s eye, Lucca admired how he had gotten closer than he thought he could without actually taking it.

“I still remember it like it was just yesterday—the day you proved yourself and became a made man. It was the first time I saw you in a suit.” Lucifer smiled, wiping the blood away from his mouth and causing it to smear across his lips. “At first, I thought Dante was crazy to let you try to get the information out of that rat who had stolen our money. But then, when I looked into your eyes, I could see it … The darkness lurking behind them. You put on quite a show for only being seventeen.”

“Imagine how fast I could get him to speak now,” Lucca said.

Seeing this was going to take longer than expected, he pulled out a cigarette, lighting the end.

“Do you know what I thought when you were done with him?” Lucifer asked.

He exhaled deeply, smoke filling the room as he asked, “What?”

“I wish he were my son,” the devil revealed. “We could have ruled this city together.”

Lucca smiled as he squatted down, stopping at eye level with the crazed black orbs. “I do … with your son.”

“Ah, the great Salvatore!” The devil raised his hand like the name was on a billboard. “The son your father stole from me.”