Page 5 of Sinful Mafia Prince

“We found him. We made our point. But the kid is not a threat. You said so yourself. He doesn’t want any part of this life.”

Dom narrowed his eyes as his mind played catch-up. “So, what? We’re just going to leave him there?”

“Yes. Not that I think he’ll last long. Once Fiore realizes the kid wants nothing to do with him, he’ll take care of our little problem for us.”

While that should’ve been a relief to Dom, the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to be the one to end Luca’s life, the thought of Fiore—Luca’sfather—doing it, made his skin crawl.

“I think we should go get him.”

His father arched a brow. “You do, do you?”

“Yes. We can still use him for leverage.”

“We don’tneedhim. When Fiore gets rid of him, as opposed to letting some scared kid run off back to his ‘normal’ life where he could yap to anyone, their family will be in a state of chaos. With no heir, dissension amongst the ranks is inevitable. That’s when we make our final play.”

Dom knew what his father was saying was right, knew that the best move here was to leave it alone, but there was a niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach that wouldn’t leave him be. He couldn’t just let Luca go. Not now, not when they were this close. But even as he sat there formulating his next plan, he knew deep down this had nothing to do with the family and everything to do with getting back what was his.

CHAPTERTHREE

THE FIORE MEN dropped Luca on a couch in a formal living area that looked like it hadn’t been touched since the eighties. It was a far cry from where he’d ended up in a basement with Dom, but he didn’t fool himself into thinking this was any safer. At least they’d left him alone for the moment, which gave him time to take in his surroundings and get his bearings.

He shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but it was impossible given his hands were still bound behind him, along with his ankles. Did they really consider him a threat? Even if he had a weapon, he probably wouldn’t know how to use it.

The walls were a dusty rose with heavy floral drapes and matching firm couches, and on the coffee table sat a silver tea set that looked more for show than actual use.

This is a mob boss’s house?

Luca wouldn’t have believed it if not for the lone picture frame sitting in front of him. Just like the rest of the room, the photo looked stuck in time, but he could clearly see it was the same four people that had been in the picture Dom showed him, just several years younger. The two boys wore similar scowls to their father’s, and only the woman smiled, though close-lipped.

Gabriella,Luca thought. Would he be meeting her? Did she know what had happened to him, or was she in the dark as much as Caterina Rossetti was from “family” business? This was different, though. He was herson. How could she, or any of them, have just given him away like he didn’t mean anything?

It shouldn’t have bothered him at all to be away from these people, and truly, he was grateful he hadn’t grown up in this life. But somewhere deep inside, he still felt the sting of rejection and wondered why. What had he done to be ostracized?

“Luca.”

A deep voice full of gravel made him jerk his attention to the entryway, where the man from the photo stood. He looked much older than Luca had expected; his body was rounded but sagging in a way that seemed like the world had dragged him down with it.

On instinct, Luca went to stand up, to put himself on the same level and not be intimidated, but his bound feet tripped him up and he fell back on the couch.

“Frankie.” One word from the boss, and one of the men from the car appeared. “You search him?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Then cut him loose.”

Without a word, Frankie pulled out a switchblade from his pocket and made quick work of Luca’s zip ties.

The relief he felt was instantaneous, and he stretched his arms out in front of him, willing the blood to flow back into his hands.

As Frankie disappeared somewhere in the house, Fiore slowly made his way to the couch opposite Luca. The difference between this man and Vincenzo Rossetti was stark, and the thought ofhowan obviously older, ailing man like this could possibly be in charge crossed Luca’s mind.

Fiore sat down with a groan, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, and mopped his face. Then he tucked it away and focused back on Luca. His dark eyes didn’t show any hint of sentimentality, but what did Luca expect from a man that had thrown him away?

“So you’re the one,” Fiore said, more to himself than Luca, scanning over him as a scientist might a new species he’d just discovered. He grunted. “You gotta be, what? Twenty-two—”

“I’m twenty-four,” Luca said before he could stop himself. But something about the fact that his own father didn’t even know his age grated on his nerves. “Something you’d know if you hadn’t thrown me out like a piece of garbage.”

Fiore’s eyes turned to slits, but other than that he gave no indication that he’d heard, or cared about, what Luca said. There was no flicker of emotion in his eyes, no hint of regret at what he’d given up. He just sat stoic and unaffected, with an expression that told Luca better than words that he meant absolutely nothing to this man.

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