Page 19 of Luca

“I’m going to send you the location of one of the docs we use out there. You have any cash on you?”

“Yeah. Jace only had half on him when the Irish showed up.”

“Alright. Give the doc five grand then bring me the rest. That should be enough to buy his silence.”

Should be, but not will be. Glad to know my staying out of the prying eyes of the police is so important to him.

“Where’s the girl and that fuckwit Jace?”

“She got away with the Black Roses. Pretty sure Jace is dead.” If he’s not now, he will be soon.

“Shit. The Black Roses are about to be even more of a pain in my ass than they were before,” he mumbles. “Get stitched up then meet me at the house.”

“Got it, boss.”

We hang up and my phone chimes with the location of the doctor a minute later with a message that he’s expecting me.

Thirty minutes out. Thank fuck.

After getting stitched up, I get back in the bloody car and head to the Cataldi compound. Carlo meets me at the door and looks me over, noting the scrub shirt the doc gave me, considering mine was a bloody mess.

“Let’s go into my office.”

I haven’t been here but once since I went to Alberto’s crew. The house looks the same. Same gaudy marble pillars and marble tiled floor. The staff keeps it looking clean with fresh flowers in the entryway, but the inhabitants are dirtier than ever. It was Alberto’s men who worked the human trafficking for Carlo. Carlo made it clear he didn’t want the other crews involved. I think it was because not everyone in the organization had the stomach for it, but Alberto was a twisted fuck who had no qualms about seeing the fear and desperation on young girls’ faces. In fact, he got off on it. That and he was making more money for the organization and himself than any of the other capos.

We step into Carlo’s office, which is significantly different from his father’s. Instead of the dark reds and old world feel his father’s office had, Carlo’s is cold and lifeless, much like the man himself. Modern black leather furniture with a glass-topped chrome desk fills the space along with large black and white photos of the Boston skyline hanging on dark gray walls. There’s almost a sterile feeling to everything. Maybe he thinks it makes him look more modern, like he’s taking the family in a new direction, stepping away from tradition.

He walks behind his desk and leans back in his chair before he waves to the square, low-back leather seat in front of him, signaling for me to sit.

“I’m putting a pause on the trafficking operation,” Carlo informs me.

My brows shoot up in surprise before he continues.

“My father isn’t happy with the heat we’re sure to get from the Irish and the Black Roses. He’s not interested in a war at the moment.”

The look of disgust on Carlo’s face tells me he doesn’t agree with his father, but since Francesco is still the head of the family, he can’t say shit about it.

This also puts me back to square one. The hope I had that Carlo and Francesco would put me in charge of a crew now is dead, right along with the three assholes at the warehouse.

“I’m putting you back on guard duty until this shit with the Black Roses and the Irish blows over. It won’t be forever, but you know how things worked with Alberto. As soon as I can convince my old man that pausing operations is a stupid way to handle things, you’ll be on a crew and earning again.”

“Anything you need, Carlo.”

“Your loyalty is noticed here, Luca. Don’t ever think we don’t see how you’ve always been willing to do what we ask without complaint. There’s been plenty of guys who come and go who don't share the same work ethic you do.”

By go, he probably means a bullet to the brain. That’s the only way you leave this life.

More than anything, I want to be the one to wipe his and his father’s existence from this planet. But again, I plaster a fake smile on my face like his praise means the world to me and quickly come to terms with the fact that I’m going to be stuck with this family for the foreseeable future.

“Thanks, boss.”

Carlo dismisses me with a nod.

I exit the door and remember the girl who was waiting on the other side of a different office the last time I was here. She had such fire, such rebellion in her eyes every time I saw her, much like the girl Jace brought to the warehouse today.

It’s been years since I’ve seen or heard anything about Giada Cataldi. I know she hasn’t married yet, so she’s still living in the house. Hopefully, she doesn’t act like the same bratty eighteen-year-old I left here four years ago. Then again, knowing what I do of her, I have a feeling that hope is going to die in vain.

Chapter seven

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