Page 75 of Luca

“Come on,” I say, holding out my hand. Her warm palm slides into mine, and I have the strongest sensation of never wanting to let it go.

Walking out into the main area of the clubhouse, I notice the bar covered in all types of weapons, from guns to knives, a rolled-up rope, and a few pairs of handcuffs.

I kiss Giada on her temple and tilt my head to Alessia and the group of women sitting at a table with coffee cups in front of them.

She walks over and has a seat next to Lucy, who offers her a reassuring smile and hands her a cup. “There’s a little whiskey in it,” Lucy tells her as Giada takes a sip. “Helps calm the nerves.” Giada nods in thanks.

Turning toward the bar, I spot Jude strapping several knives to his vest, and he gives me a wink.

“Jude has a certain affinity for knives,” Linc says, walking up next to me.

“What about you?” I ask.

He pats the double holster strapped across his chest. “I prefer guns, but I’m not a showboat like some people,” he says loud enough for Jude to take notice.

“Fuck off,” Jude tells his friend. “There’s a certain creativity involved in using knives that you, my friend, simply don’t possess.”

Linc chuckles. “I’ll take the quick kill any day.”

Jude shrugs. “That’s exactly what I'm talking about. No imagination.”

I have a feeling in another life, Jude could have been a serial killer. Good thing he’s on our side.

After strapping myself with four 9mms courtesy of the Black Roses and loading up on magazines, it’s time to head out. Five of us walk to the table where our women are sitting. I bend to taste Giada’s coffee and whiskey-flavored lips and feel the small hiccup in her throat. When I meet her gaze, there are tears gathering there.

“I’ll see you in a couple hours. Do me a favor?”

“What?” she whispers, trying so hard not to let the tears fall from her eyes.

“Be wearing my shirt when I get back. I fucking love seeing you in my clothes.”

Her small smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but I can’t expect it to. I wish I had more time to reassure her. Hell, I wish I had more time with her period.

I stand and follow the rest of the men outside.

“Let’s finish this,” Finn says to me, clasping me on the shoulder.

It all comes to an end tonight.

The truck we’re in is quiet as Ozzy drives us to the lake house. Knox and Cash stop at the entrance and wave us off as we continue into the dark neighborhood. It’s just after one o’clock in the morning. Anyone who lives here is most likely fast asleep, safely tucked into their bed. There’s a narrow access road to reach a dock at the lake between two properties that we pull the truck into to keep it out of sight. The back of the house is visible from where we park, and thankfully, there are no lights on, signaling that Carlo and anyone else he happens to have inside are sleeping.

As silently as possible, we make our way through the large backyard and when we get to the back door of the house, Eoghan pulls out a lock-picking set from his pocket. Handy to have in situations where breaking down the door isn’t a viable option.

When he opens the door, we all stand still, waiting silently for any sign of an alarm. None are heard and the seven of us make our way into the house. Finn and I are at the front, Eoghan and Cillian right behind us, followed by Ozzy, Linc and Jude.

From the plans, we know there are four bedrooms. One downstairs off the side of the kitchen and three large bedrooms on the second level. Finn checks the one downstairs first and comes out a moment later, shaking his head. We didn’t have time to set up any surveillance of the house before we made our way here, so we don’t know how many guys, if any, Carlo has with him.

Ozzy points to Linc and Jude, then signals with his hands to have them wait down here as the five of us advance up the stairs to the top three bedrooms. There are four doors, two on the right and two on the left. The first door on the right leads to the bathroom.

When Cillian opens the second door on the right, he nods inside. There’s a man sleeping on his back, but it isn’t Carlo. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to be here by himself. Cillian creeps in, pulls a .22 with a suppressor attached from his holster and shoots the man in the head where he sleeps. We wait for any noise indicating the small pop from the weapon roused anyone from sleep. Cillian walks out of the room and quietly pulls the door closed. One down, and who knows how many more to go.

Opening the door of the first room on the left, Ozzy shakes his head. One bedroom left. With Finn on one side of the doorframe and me on the other, I carefully turn the doorknob and allow the door to silently swing open. From the opening, I find Carlo sleeping on his back, not realizing there are seven men in the house waiting for the life to drain from him. Finn and I step in, me walking quietly to one side of the bed as Finn walks to the other. I raise my gun and train it on the man in front of me, the man responsible for nearly ending my wife’s life.

Before I have a chance to fire, his eyes shoot open and lock with mine. “Hello, Carlo.”

In a flash of movement, he spins to his side to grab the gun from his nightstand, but he’s too late. He’s staring down the suppressor of Finn’s 9mm. “Not so fast, asshole,” Finn growls at the man.

Carlo slowly rolls back over to his back and sits up with his hands on either side of him.

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