Rob Lucci Figure Novels & Stories

“We're leaving now right?” “Yes.” “I’ll get the car ready,” he said and then scurried off. ******************************************** Warehouse thirteen smelled like oil mixed with old money. Both familiar, yet unwanted at this time. The large metal doors creaked open as I entered, Luca stood to the left, and the others to the right. And in the center—Rico. On his knees. Completely bruised with blood on his lip. But still breathing. He looked up when I approached. “Matteo I—”

Being jealous of a being who can have total power over me…I wouldn’t be that stupid. “Not as much as you. I didn’t follow her like a puppy dog around the castle. You did. I can handle it. In the meantime, do everything in your power to stay away from her.” “I will. Trust me.” “Great, now say, fetch Max.” “Fetch Max,” I repeated. At this max zoomed out of my room and reappeared like no time had passed “Take this.” Max handed me a glittering purple vile. “What is it?” I asked.

34 years old Luca Moretti, is the Santoro crime family’s most feared enforcer, he was tall, heavily muscled, covered in tattoos, with cold dark eyes and a reputation for making problems disappear quietly. He’s violent, dominant, and loyal only to the family. When a high-stakes witness threatens to bring down their empire, Luca is assigned to babysit the witness in a remote safehouse until the trial.

Now I was nothing but a loose end. The hood was yanked off after several minutes. I blinked against the soft interior lights, chest heaving. Sitting across from me was Luca Rossi himself. He looked every bit the devil I had helped protect. Tall, powerfully built, black shirt unbuttoned at the collar to reveal smooth, inked skin stretched over hard muscle. A jagged scar sliced through his left eyebrow, giving his sharp Italian features a permanent dangerous edge. His gray eyes locked onto mine with cold intensity, studying me like I was both a problem and a prize.

The black sedan sat quietly in the courtyard. Rocco had been my father’s most loyal underboss since they were young. He’d followed him through gunfire and bloodshed for half his life. He only recognized the Corleone name, answered to my father, and protected only me. As for Luca? In Rocco’s eyes, he was nothing more than an outsider who climbed up through marriage. Luca was not worthy of his attention. “Principessa, are you sure you want to go in person?” Rocco asked, polishing the revolver that had accompanied him for decades. His voice carried the firm protectiveness of a man guarding his own blood. “That kind of place will dirty your shoes.”

Gun hanging loosely at his side. His face was almost identical to Nico’s. But colder. Sharper. More ruthless. Luca Velden smiled down at us. “Miss me?”

And every single one of them looked when they saw me on his arm. I suddenly realized what I was. A symbol. A message. A trophy. Luciano didn’t stop until we reached a corner booth guarded by two men with earpieces. A man was already sitting there. Tall. Polished. With skin like honey and a scar running down his jaw like a signature. He smiled when he saw me. Not a warm smile. A dangerous one. “I thought you didn’t take pets, De Luca,” the man said in a voice too soft to be friendly.

I ask, watching the blood dripping through the openings of the bullets I've accepted in him. “You son of a bitch!” He spits, melting my imported shoes. I signal with my hand, and Lucca hits him in the legs with a hot iron club. The base of the club is made of wood, which doesn't hurt the hands of my right arm down here. “Ah!” Ruan cries out in pain, his knees bend and the chain around his neck begins to hang him, struggling, he manages to balance himself again.

A black Rolls-Royce stopped at the entrance, its headlights blinding. The door opened. A tall, imposing figure stepped out, silhouetted against the light. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit. His steps were steady, each one radiating a suffocating power. It was Arthur Russo. The King of Chicago. The thugs blanched. "Arthur Russo! What are you doing here?" Arthur Russo ignored them. His gaze cut right through the scum and landed on me. Then, he raised his hand. A black pistol was pointed directly at the leader's head.

Lucein looks at Roland for the first time. “The vote has been carried, The board is adjourned.” Roland stands. His chair rolls back and hits the glass. “congratulations, that was surprisingly easy” Scar stands too. “Easy hmm,Mr Roland your boss Mila doesn't want a fight,I see” “He doesn't fight a woman he's madly into, besides you are the face of Liet,the brand itself” Liet was built by her family,but someone she was forgotten,this goes deeper than she thought.