Undressed By The Mafia God

"We are not doing nothing." Massimo argued.

"It feels like nothing. Massi, you have to find my son and his wife. You have to do more."

Massimo reached for her hands. "I assure you, love, I am doing everything I can. Believe me. Marco is following a lead now," he continued. "Bianca’s finances led him into Bastione territory. If there is anything that can lead us to David, Marco will find it."

"And if he does not?"

Massimo’s jaw tightened. He had men searching everywhere. He had called in favours from men who charged blood instead of money.

It still did not feel like enough.

"You have to believe me," he said quietly. "If I have to give everything I have to bring them both home, I would."

"Give me reports of what they have," she said. "The routes. Every place they changed cars." She pulled her hands free and wiped her face.

"I was just about to have a briefing to see if I can narrow it down enough in case Marco doesn’t have any success with the Bastiones."

"I cannot believe he is there with those monsters by himself," Carol complained as she pushed back her chair and rose.

Massimo watched her smooth down her dress. "Carol, you cannot come with me to a briefing," he reminded her.

She stopped and slowly turned to face him. "Why not?"

"Love," he began carefully, "you walked away from this life, remember? You cannot simply waltz back in."

Carol folded her arms. "You are saying I cannot become involved in affairs concerning my own family?"

"That is not what I said." Massimo sighed. "I do not have time for a fight, Carol."

"Then stop saying things worth fighting about."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your family is the famiglia...I am not trying to blame you for leaving. It is just..." He hesitated, knowing even before the words left his mouth that they would not save him. "It is the rules."

"I left because I was tired of funerals, lies against me that threatened my life and peace of mind. I did not stop being Luca’s mother. I did not stop loving Marco. And I certainly did not surrender the right to know what is happening when my children are missing." Carol sighed and swallowed her anger. Now was not the time. "Go to your briefing."

"Find my son. And bring Veronica home. Bring my family back to me safe and sound, or your famiglia will be having problems with me."

Massimo inclined his head. "Yes, ma’am."

*****

David arrived at the warehouse with one hand gripping Luca’s shoulder, shoving him forward as they crossed the threshold.

Luca’s wrists remained cuffed. A short chain linked his ankles, forcing him into measured steps, but captivity had done nothing to diminish him. He still moved with authority. His shirt was creased from the journey, exhaustion shadowed his face, and murder sat openly in his eyes.

The instant he entered, he saw his wife. Vee was positioned behind a metal desk, both wrists cuffed to opposite ends. Her arms were stretched wide, her shoulders tense with pain. The outfit David had forced onto her left too much skin exposed and bruises marked places Luca wanted to kiss and then avenge.

David had been right. It was quite the presentation. A body on the floor. His wife restrained like an offering. David had missed his true calling in low-budget theatre.

Luca’s face gave nothing away but inside, something savage tore through him. "Hey, love..." he said, offering Vee a small smile. "Good to see you."

Vee’s stomach dropped. He was here. He had actually come. The relief that flooded her was immediately strangled by terror. She stared at the chains around his wrists and ankles and she wanted to scream until the walls split apart. "I told you not to come."

Luca’s smile deepened slightly. "Did you really expect me to listen?"

Under any other circumstances, she might have rolled her eyes.

"Luca, it makes no sense," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "He is not going to let both of us go."

"I know." He said it with a smirk. Luca had not come expecting freedom. He had come knowing exactly what David intended and had walked into the trap anyway because she was inside it.

David moved behind him, irritated by how little attention he was receiving. He pulled Luca toward a steel support bar fixed to the wall and began securing his cuffs to it.

Luca’s eyes never left Vee’s face. He studied every bruise. She did the same, searching him for wounds and silently counting all the ways this could end badly. He noticed the body lying on the floor was familiar.

Graziella Vitale’s black dress was dark with dried blood. One arm lay twisted beneath her, her face turned toward the concrete.

Luca glanced from the corpse to Vee. "You do that?" he asked her, both of them speaking now as if David didn’t even exist.

"He did," Veronica said, jerking her chin toward David. "Dude is crazy."

"What did she do?"

"She tried to shoot me."

"Ah." Luca nodded once. "I see." His gaze lifted to David. "This should be easy, then." He had no weapon, no obvious means of escape, and a psychopath moving around the room with a gun.

Naturally, he sounded confident.

"You got a plan already?" she asked.

"Yes."

A flicker of relief moved through her before common sense dragged it back by the collar. This was Luca. His definition of a plan had, on several occasions, involved trusting his arrogance.

"Care to share?"

They both understood what he was doing. If they spoke normally—if they teased and argued, and looked at each other instead of at David—then David became smaller.

Vee was playing along. Luca smiled at her.

"You’ll kill him."

That was the grand strategy? Simply hand his wife responsibility for murdering their captor.

"Me?"

"Yes, Bambola."

"With what?"

"We’ll work that out."

David pretended not to hear them. He had spent months arranging this moment. Instead, he busied himself with the equipment.

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