Chapter 2 (Luca)

Groaning, I roll over in bed. What the hell happened last night? I blink, trying to focus. I’m in my room. My bed. But I’m not alone.

Shit.

There’s a woman next to me. I never let them stay over. I must’ve passed out before I could kick her out. Great. Now I’ve got to deal with this.

I pull on a pair of sweatpants and walk over to wake her up. I’ve got shit to do.

“Ehi, alzati e tirati fuori il culo!” I slap her ass. (Hey, get the fuck up and get your ass out.)

“Vaffanculo, stronzo!” she snaps, trying to roll back over. (Fuck you, asshole.)

“Cagna, se non te ne sei andata prima che esco dalla doccia, ti metterò una pallottola in testa.” I growl. (Bitch, if you’re not gone by the time I’m out of the shower, I’ll put a bullet in your head.)

That gets her moving. She’s crying now. I slam the bathroom door and lock it behind me.

Crying. Why do they always cry? Like it’s going to make me feel bad. Please. I’m Luca Ricci, Don of the Ricci Italian Crime Family. Women throw themselves at me every night. I never sleep with the same one twice.

Well… there’s Lina. But she’s nothing special. Just easy. I call her when I want a quick fuck. I’m guessing that’s what happened last night. I treat her like the rest, but she keeps coming back. Every damn time.

I let the hot water wash away last night’s mistake. Smirking as I turn off the shower, I hear the slam of the bedroom door. Good. She listened this time.

Still, Lina’s getting too comfortable. She’s friends with my sister now. That’s dangerous. I hope she doesn’t think this is more than it is. I don’t do more. I knew I shouldn’t have started anything with her, but what can I say? It’s good. I’ll deal with her when I get back.

I get dressed, grab my bag, and head out. I’ve got a plane to catch. I’m flying to America.

Sal Bruno called, asking for a meeting. He’s an old friend of my father’s—a loyal ally. When he asked for help keeping his niece safe, I knew it wasn’t about gain. Sal would never use her like that. I don’t know much, but I do know Ivan Balakin is involved.

That bastard needs a bullet between the eyes.

Boarding my private jet, I see my brother and second-in-command, Gio, laughing at me.

“I see you had a fun night, brother,” he says, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up,” I glare.

“Do you know what the old man wants?”

“Not exactly. Just that he needs help keeping his niece safe from Ivan.”

We land at Kansas City Airport. A car is waiting. Sal runs KC but lives an hour outside the city. Smart move—don’t shit where you eat. But it’s annoying. I need rest before this meeting. And by rest, I mean sex. Clears my head. But there’s no time.

“What do we know about the niece?” I ask as we climb into the car.

“Not much. She’s eighteen, a senior in high school. Red hair, blue eyes.”

“Anything else?”

“Straight A’s. Doesn’t date.”

“Doesn’t date?” I raise a brow.

“Yup. No boyfriend. No drama.”

What teenage girl in America doesn’t date? Weird. But she’s a mafia princess, so maybe not that weird.

We arrive at Sal’s house around 3 p.m.

“Welcome, Don Ricci,” Sal says, shaking my hand.

“Don? Sal, we’re old friends. More like family. Call me Luca,” I smile.

“Alright, Luca. I’ve got your rooms ready. Why don’t I show you to them so you can rest?”

“We’ll rest after the meeting.”

“Well, GreenLee texted. She’ll be a few minutes late. Something about picking up a book from the library to study,” he says with an apologetic smile.

“Late? She knew about this meeting, right?”

“Oh, sì. She knew. Not the full details, but she’s never late unless it’s important. And right now, her studies are her top priority,” he chuckles.

“Fine. Let’s start our part of the meeting. She can join when she arrives.”

We drop our bags in the rooms and head to Sal’s office. The conversation turns serious fast.

Sal wants me to marry his niece.

It’s not about love. It’s about protection. If I marry her, the Bruco family falls under my control. His turf becomes mine. It’s business.

“Why are you—sorry if this sounds harsh—selling off your niece?” Gio asks, clearly annoyed. He’s married, with a kid on the way. I get it.

“It’s not that I want to. I have to,” Sal says, meeting my eyes.

“Ivan’s had his eyes on her since she was eleven. Sends her creepy cards and gifts every year. She burns them. Doesn’t even look.”

I lean back, processing. “I need more before I agree. And she needs to agree. I won’t force her.”

I may be a playboy, but I’m not a monster. My mother would kill me if I ever forced a woman.

“Where is she, by the way? She’s over an hour late,” Gio notes.

Sal sighs. “Her father—BJ—is a real piece of shit. Never around. Turns out, he was in debt to Ivan. Decided to use GreenLee as payment.”

“What?!” Gio and I shout in unison.

“She doesn’t know.”

“Why not?” I ask, trying to stay calm.

“I planned to tell her today.”

“That’s why you asked us to stay awhile?” Gio asks.

“Yes. I thought if she got to know you, it might help her come around.”

“I get that. But it’s concerning she’s this late.”

“I agree. I’ll call her now.” Sal reaches for his phone, but before he can dial, we hear her voice.

“UNCLE?!”

Something’s wrong. I can hear the fury in her tone.

“Uncle Sal, where are you? I’m sorry I’m late but…” She stops mid-sentence as she walks into the office and sees us.

And just like that, I’m speechless.

Short. Red hair. Deep blue eyes. And a body that could bring a man to his knees. Full, ruby lips. Big tits. Slim waist. The only thing I can’t see from here is her ass.

“Fiore mia?” Sal says, breaking the silence—and my train of thought. “What’s wrong?”

She crosses her arms, pushing her perfect breasts up even more. Not now, Luca. Focus.

She takes a deep breath. “Care to explain why I just got jumped in the school parking lot by four of Ivan’s men?”

“WHAT?!” Sal yells, rushing to her. Gio and I follow.

“I’m fine. They didn’t even touch me,” she says, brushing us off. She turns to leave the office, then pauses at the door, raising a brow.

“Well? Are you guys coming or what?”

We glance at each other, then back at her. She rolls her eyes. Fuck, that was hot.

“Follow me,” she says, waving us along.

We trail her into the garage.

Why the hell are we in here? I think to myself.

“Why are we in here?” Gio whispers. I just shake my head.

“Fiore mia, why are we in here?” Sal asks.

She turns to him. “Well, Uncle, I want answers. And if you can’t give them, then these two will—whether they want to or not.”

She pops the trunk of her car.

Inside are two of Ivan’s men. Tied up. Bruised. Groaning.

I stare.

What the fuck… Who is this girl?