Psychotic Love (a mafia love story)

Chapter 12

LUCA'S POV

"What's a capo, and why do they call you that?"

"In simple terms, it means boss," I say.

"And what are you boss of?"

Echo's questions don't upset me like she thought, but they do worry me. I can't tell her who I truly am, or what I do. I don't want her involved but it's nearly inevitable without sending her home. Maybe I should. It would make her happy anyway. The fact that I care about her happiness in the slightest is driving me insane.

I don't care, I never have in the past. I've never thought twice about pulling a trigger or slicing a throat. The word care has never been widely used in my vocabulary, or even proven in my actions. Not until that night, when I saw Echo so carelessly take down that spiked drink. The thought of what would happen to her once she was taken outside of that building tore my mind apart. I knew that it would gnaw down on my thoughts until I only had one left. That one thought being that I care for her.

"Luca?" I love the way my name rolls off her tongue. Her silky voice makes everything sound seraphic.

"Luca!" Dario's voice rings from behind me. "Romano is here."

That isn't a surprise. I figured he'd show up. I give Echo over to Dario. I know he'll do whatever to keep her safe. I don't trust many but I do trust him. He's been my right man hand since we were six, never once crossing me.

She tugs on my sleeve. "Where are you going?"

I don't have time for this. I care about Echo and as much as I hate to admit it, she's invaded my mind. Thoughts of her have been orbiting my head since I took her. But I will not allow her to interfere with my work. I will not let these feelings for her fuck up my priorities. I can't.

I grab her wrist. "Echo, do not question me right now." Her eyes grow wide before her face falls into an indignant frown. I turn to leave, pulling my gun from my waistband.

My eyes search through the crowd for my father. I spot him speaking with a woman. His hands are wrapped around her waist and hers are on his chest. This is the third woman I've seen him with tonight. My mother died years ago but it still angers me to see him with other women. After her death, he acted as if she never existed. He claimed it was his way of coping.

When I reach him, I pull him to the side. "That thing that I wanted to update you about is here. It's Romano Marchetti. He crossed boundaries, just like I knew he would."

"Great, now we can take him down," my father says with a smile. We begin walking down a hall.

He's up to something, being crossed is never great. I give my father a grin. "You had me make this deal all while knowing he was going to cross us, just so you could carry out your vendetta? You never wanted peace, did you?"

My father lands a slap on my back. "I'm surprised you didn't call me out on the stupidity. You should have known this was about your mother. I know they had something to do with her death."

He's right, I should have known. The only reason I didn't question him is that he's always right. Whenever it was time to make a crucial decision, he'd always pick the right one. He knows better than to let personal feelings come into business, though. I don't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't have any proof, this is all based on feeling.

Either way, it doesn't matter. Marchetti is going down for crossing me and for whatever my father thinks he did.

We reach the end of the hall where a double door stands. I push it open. My eyes catch several men prowling around on the overlooking top floor. Romano sits between two other men at a long table.

"Luca and DeAngelo Caputo. It's about time we have this sit-down."

I keep my gaze on the men up top and study their every move.

"Don't worry, they're not armed." His smile says otherwise.

"Have a seat, we have a lot to discuss."

"No, I'm not too sure we do. You crossed a line. What more is there to say?"

He slams his fist into the table. "You killed my underboss." It is clear that this man truly meant something to him because his emotions are showing.

"Yes, after you sent him to my club to traffic girls."

His expression flattens as if he didn't know I knew what he put his underboss up to. "Were you not aware of your ratty second? Domenico! Yes, that was the name, right? He broke that code of silence within seconds." I pause to take in his perplexed reaction. No man ever thinks of the day their underboss breaks omertà.

"The deals off, Romano. If you or any of your men step foot in my territory again, I will watch your little kingdom crumble beneath my hands. I will kill you all," my tone remains calm.

Roman's gaze is cold and stunned as his eye twitches ever so slightly. I know he hears me and he knows better than to underestimate me. I will take his entire organization down.

I planned to kill him but my father and I are heavily outnumbered, and I would be a fool to believe none of his men are armed. For now, I've decided to spare him.

That defeated look disappears from Romano's face. "DeAngelo, I've never known you to be so quiet."

A cutting laugh escapes my father's lips. I know that sound all too well. It always fills the air right before adversity.

My father swiftly pulls his gun from his belt, firing a bullet into Romano's chest.

Everything seems to slow down as the men above draw their guns. I grab my father's arm to get us out, but not before bullets begin to shower us. A piercing hot pain shatters through my abdomen. I groan and place my hand over the wound.

What the fuck was he thinking? He's out of his fucking mind, and when we get out of this I'll be damn sure to let him know.

My father and I finally escape the room. The adrenaline coursing through my body keeps the pain at bay, but I don't know how far it'll carry me.

My father and I run to the end of the hall before he starts to slow his pace. "Pa, come on. We gotta get out of here, what the actual fuck were you thinking? You knew that wasn't going to go well. You just put everything on the line, and for what?"

He collapses to the ground. As pissed as I am at him, the anger flushes from my body, and concern floods it. I rush to him. We can't be out in the open so I pull him into a nearby room.

I rip open his blazer to see red blossoming through his white button-up. The blood pooling underneath him tells me the bullet when through and through.

"Fuck," I let out. For the first time in a long time, fear invades my body. The feeling is so foreign that I almost don't recognize it. I felt this same feeling the day my mother died, but only for a split second.

"Come on, Pa. You can't do this. Not now. We can still make it. Come on, I'll help you, just hold on a little longer," I say. Deep within I know his wounds are fatal.

He reaches for my hand. I give it to him, so he doesn't have to move much. He's not leaving this building alive. I've accepted that.

"Luca, mio figlio. I messed up."

"Yeah, I noticed." My unamused laugh echoes in the empty room.

"Be wise, be calculated with your every move. If you don't, your enemies will come back to claim it all." He's said this a million times. I wish to hear it a million times over, but his time is what I feel to be seconds away from up.

My father coughs, and blood spills from his mouth. His light attitude is gone. My face softens as I stare into his eyes. He struggles to get air before he stops trying altogether. His face slowly loses all expression and his eyes lose the life inside them.

I let out a sigh before closing his eyes with my bloody hand.