Chains of velvet obsession

Chapter one

“Father’s Blood, Stranger’s Body”

Jett Luciano’s POV

“Twenty-two million dollars should be sent before midnight, Reyes.” My dad said, leaning back in his chair while holding a cigarette. “Thirty-five percent of every net shipment. No exceptions, Reyes. That is the deal and it is not changing.”

Reyes forced a smile and tapped his pen twice on the table. “Marcus, you are squeezing the life out of me here. I bring the Miami routes and the port people. Twenty-eight percent. That is fair. Come on, man, we’ve done business long enough.”

“The price is thirty-five, and it is not changing,” I stepped in, leaning over the table to look Reyes right in the eyes. “The money hits the account tonight or the whole deal dies.”

“You have a lot of mouth for a boy, Jett,” Reyes growled, his face hardening as he stood up from his chair.

I interrupted him. “Do not waste more time. We both know this is worth it. Wire the twenty-two or walk. Simple.”

He stared at my dad and gave him a forced smile. His boys were roaming around the place. The whole warehouse was tense.

“I see the Lucianos are being kind of greedy,” Reyes said.

My dad waved his hand, cutting off the argument. “Take a walk, Jett. Let the adults finish the paperwork. I’ll meet you outside when we’re done.”

I grabbed my jacket and walked out of the damp warehouse, letting the door slam shut behind me. The night air was thick. I needed a cigarette to clear the taste of cheap whiskey from my mouth. I walked down toward the end of the pier, watching the dark water slap against the wooden pilings.

That’s when I saw her. She was standing close to the water like she owned it, the breeze playing with her hair. Her dress was quite revealing — tight waist, full hips, and a nice round ass. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She looked exactly like the girl I had come across on my way to the airport and in my dreams. I didn’t know if I was hallucinating. Because she was too perfect to be real.

She should have been a stranger.

But she wasn’t.

I had seen that face before. Not in photographs. Not in real life. In dreams. In the strange

half-conscious moments I had started waking from the last few weeks. The same eyes. The

same mouth. The same stillness.

For a second I wondered if the whiskey was playing tricks. She was too exact. Too quiet. Too

perfect to be standing there in the middle of a dirty pier while men argued about percentages

inside a warehouse.

My phone buzzed hard in my pocket. I answered without looking away from her.

“Speak.”

Noise and shouting filled the background.

“Boss, you need to get out of there now. This was all a setup.”

I went still.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Gunfire exploded from inside the warehouse before the man could answer. Rapid. Deafening.

Automatic rifles tearing through the night.

“Dad!”

I dropped the cigarette and ran. Slammed my full weight into the metal door and burst inside just

as my father stumbled backward. A bullet tore straight through his chest. Blood bloomed fast

across the white shirt. His eyes went wide. He collapsed forward into my arms, the full weight of

him dragging us both down to the concrete.

“Dad—look at me. Stay with me.”

I pressed both hands over the hole in his chest. Blood poured between my fingers, hot and fast.

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something. Nothing came out.

“Marcus!” I shouted, as if using his name could pull him back.

“Don’t you fucking do this. Look at

me.”

His eyes found mine for half a second. Then they stopped focusing. Just stared past my

shoulder at nothing. The weight of him went completely slack.

I shook him once. Hard.

“Dad..”

No answer. Only the sound of my own men returning fire from the far side of the warehouse.

Another bullet grazed my shoulder, heat searing across the skin. The world tilted. Noise faded at

the edges.

Then I saw her again.

Not by the water this time. Right beside me. Kneeling. Her face close. Her hand pressing

against my bleeding shoulder like she had been there the whole time.

Everything went black.

---

the next morning

I woke up in the hospital. Sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air…still feeling pain around my shoulders and my head pounding like a drum.

A nurse stood at the side of the bed, checking the monitors.

“You’re awake. Good. You lost a lot of blood last night. Mr Luciano.”

My voice came out rough.

“Who brought me in?”

She hesitated.

“A woman. She carried most of your weight somehow and got you through the

doors. Stayed just long enough to make sure the doctors took over… then she left. No name.

No number. Nothing.”

I stared at the ceiling.

“What did she look like?”

“I couldn’t see her face but the little details i could get. Dark hair. Average height. Young. She didn’t speak much. Just made sure you were breathing,

then walked out before anyone could stop her.”

The blurred face from the pier filled my mind again. A slow, dark smile pulled at the corner of my

mouth.

My phone lit up on the small table beside me. I reached for it with my good hand. A message

from the partners: board meeting in two hours. Presence required.

I looked at the nurse.

“Dress the wounds. Tight. I have somewhere important to be.”

She frowned.

“Mr. Luciano, you need to rest. The doctor said..”

“I didn’t ask what the doctor said. Dress them. Now.”