Page 6 of The Gambler

CHAPTER 4

LUCA

Luca looked in the bathroom mirror, his eyes pinned on the ragged scar close to his heart. He’d been a free man and staying at his brother Gio’s house for two days now, but his mind was still partly in lock-up. His eyes stayed focused on the spot that had nearly cost him his life. No amount of silk shirts his eldest brother had provided him with was going to cover up that scar. It was always there for him to see, a reminder of what he’d been through.

He picked up a shirt from the bed. In the last forty-eight hours, he’d been smothered by family. They meant well but he needed his own space. Watching Gio having settled down in married bliss was a strange concept. Even more, seeing Hector, a man he considered his honorary brother, doting on his wife and kids, had been an eye-opener. It had caused an ache in his heart that had nothing to do with the scar tissue.

Odd, how oncehehad been the one about to get married, to start a family. His brothers avoided marriage or any kind of commitment to a woman like the plague. They used to have one single thing in mind—avenge the death of their parents. Luca hadn’t been there when they had found the culprits and toasted on exacting vengeance. Funny, how things had changed in two years, and yet again, hadn’t changed at all. Not to him. He was still living and breathing vengeance.

Grace.

Cruz.

His former PA and partner, the two people who had screwed him over. He repeated the names three more times, like he’d been doing every day since he ended up behind bars.

He’d just put an arm through the sleeve of his shirt when he detected a movement behind him.

“Fuck.” Gio was standing behind him, watching his scar through the mirror.

“Morning to you too.”

His brother’s eyes were burning in a steel blue retribution. Another subject they were going to have to discuss soon. Luca wasn’t his baby brother anymore. No one was going to stand in the way of his revenge. Not even his overprotective eldest brother who had a knack for trying to micromanage everyone’s life.

“You never told me.” There was a familiar anguish in Gio’s voice. A sound Luca hated. His brother had no business carrying a guilt over his wrongful incarceration.

“There was no point in telling you.”

“I didn’t pay Kristoff for this.”

He started buttoning up his shirt. “Don’t go telling Kristoff off. Not even the great Kristoff Romanov can control everything that happens between the walls of a prison, no matter how many people he pays off. A fight broke out between the Russians and the Armenians. Shit like that happens. The Bratva guy who had my back was worse off. He was turned into shish kebab.”

There wasn’t enough protection money in the world to protect you when things went south in prison.

Gio was silent for a beat. “I came to tell you dinner is ready.”

Sure he was. “Since when are you the get guy when dinner is being served?” He had, like, a dozen people working in his huge mansion.

“I’m not,” Gio admitted. “But I wanted to talk to you before you leave.”

“Leave? You kicking me out?”

Gio gave him an impassive look. Then he took out a set of keys from his pocket. “Like we both don’t know that you want your own place. I can see it on your face, you know.”

“Yeah well, there’s only so much domestic bliss a man can take.” He put out his hand to receive the keys. “These look like the keys from my old condo.”

A place he had carefully chosen for its location. A home he had spent a fortune on to have it decorated according to the latest trends. A place worthy of his former fiancée, Natasha. The love of his life. What a joke.

“They are. I bought the building. Consider it a ‘nice to have you back from jail’ gift. Hector got you some wheels as well. I opted for your old Ferrari, but he said you needed a more robust car. So, it’s a Jeep.”

Apparently, Hector knew him better than he thought. This shouldn’t have surprised him since the former Marine would know what it felt like to have your life turned upside down. While the big guy hadn’t been to jail, he had served his country in the shittiest hellholes on earth. Who knew how many times he’d been caught by enemy fire, ending up with a desire to feel safe in every aspect of his life.

He held up the car key. “Thank him for the car.”

“Why don’t you thank me yourself?”

Luca turned to see Hector leaning against the doorframe. “Thanks, brother.”

“Don’t thank me yet. It has a tracker in it, and it’s connected to Diaz security.”

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