Chapter 62

LUCA

We made good time getting to the first club, a rundown building on the east side. And I was in and out in forty-five minutes with the cash from the night before and my meeting with my contact from the cartel done. Normally, I didn't make the money runs myself. I’d just send a few of my guys. But once in a while I came myself, just to show my face, or when I needed to set up a shipment. They never knew when those times would be, and I changed up my routine often. Sometimes I was there twice a week, then I wouldn't show for a month and counted on my men to keep me informed about what was going on. I checked in with the management, heard any complaints from the girls when they felt they weren't getting the attention they wanted, and then I was out. Keeping to a routine only tipped off your enemies where you would be and when. I avoided it at all costs.

By four o'clock, I was walking into the last club, buttoning my jacket as I went. Two guys walked behind me. The other was sitting in the SUV, engine running and gun out, guarding the money we'd already collected.

One of my buttons popped off my jacket as I tried to secure it and bounced off the concrete, landing about three feet away to my left. Stepping to the side, I bent down to grab it, and felt searing fire burn a path through the outside of my right shoulder.

"Boss is hit! Boss is hit!"

I saw my man Tony yelling into the phone and heard the screech of tires. Someone grabbed me under the arms and hustled me into the club as shots broke out behind me.

"Down! Down! Everybody down!" Tony yelled as he got me inside and slammed and locked the door. Girls screamed, jumping off whatever customer they'd been grinding on and running awkwardly to the back of the club in their platform shoes, leaving their sugar daddies to duck under the tables and behind the bar.

I pulled my gun from its shoulder holster and took up a spot near the front door, wishing I could see out, but for obvious reasons, there were no windows anywhere in the club. "Motherfucker! Who is that?" I yelled, not taking my eyes from the closed door. "Who the fuck is that?"

No one answered me. But I hadn't really expected them to, because no one fucking knew any better than I did.

Tony and I waited in silence. My shoulder burned like a motherfucker, but I'd taken much worse.

"You okay?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. Feels like it went right through."

A few seconds later, there was banging on the door. Tony opened it and let my other guy inside. "Whoever it was, they're gone." "The money?" I asked.

He just shook his head. "Didn't even try to go after it."

"That means they were after you, Luca," Tony said.

Sure as fuck they were. I paced away, thinking furiously. Mario was behind this. There was no doubt in my mind. Apparently, my little shopping trip with "Nicole" had done exactly what I wanted it to and word had gotten back to him.

"We should look at your arm, boss."

"It's fine. Call the car back. I need to get the hell out of here."

It was just like Mario to try this kind of shit. He didn't have the balls to face me himself. He just sat behind his desk, safe in the security of wherever the hell he was hiding out, and barked out orders to all his little fucking minions.

While I waited for the car, I settled things with the manager of the club and reassured the girls that they were safe. Most of the customers hightailed it out of there as soon as they heard they could leave, but I wasn't worried about the lost business. They'd be back. The men who frequented these types of places on a daily basis did so for a reason. And gunshots weren't that uncommon in this part of the city. I'd be surprised if anyone had even bothered to call the police, considering how fast it had happened. And the shooter had used a suppressor. Unless someone had seen him, the odds that the shots were heard above the usual city noise were minimal.

By the time I got back to the house, I was starting to feel a little woozy from the loss of blood. It dripped onto the marble floors as I pulled off my jacket and loosened my tie with my left hand.

"Oh, my god! What happened?"

I turned my head to find Veda coming out of the kitchen. The mouthwatering scent of a roast wafted out behind her. Hearing the urgency in her tone, Lisa rushed out, wiping her hands on a towel.

"I'm fine," I told them both, already heading to my office. "Where's Enzo and Tristan?"

"Here." Enzo stepped out from where he'd been standing near the stairs.

"And here," Tristan said from behind me.

Without a word, they followed me and Tony to my office. I poured myself a glass of whiskey with my good hand to ease the throbbing in my shoulder while Tony filled them in.

"It had to be Mario," Enzo said. "Or is there someone else gunning for you we don't know about?"

I downed my drink in two swallows and poured myself another. "Not that I'm aware of."

"What are we gonna do about it?" Tristan asked.

"Nothing," I told him.

"How can we do nothing? He tried to kill you."

Yes, he did. If I hadn't popped off that button, I'd still be lying in that dirty parking lot next to the trash and hypodermic needles. Before I could say anything else, I heard a scuffle outside the door.

"You can't go in there, Veda! Wait...no...wait! Dammit!"

The door flew open and Veda flew into the room, skidding to a halt when we all turned to look at her. She looked around a bit nervously at first, and then her gray eyes landed on me. She took a step forward, then stopped, her bravado leaving her under the weight of our stares.

I tilted my head, running my eyes over her. She was wearing a pair of washed-out jean shorts and a T-shirt with a Rolling Stones logo. Her feet were bare, and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. "Veda, this is Tony. Tony, Veda."

"Holy shit," he mumbled, more to himself than to any of us. Then he turned to me, eyebrows lowered in confusion. "Wait. Is this Mario's girlfriend?"