The bar was a dive. The kind of place where the lights were too dim, the floor sticky, and the air thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and desperation. It wasn't Luciano's usual scene. He belonged in upscale clubs with tailored suits and expensive drinks-not here, surrounded by lowlifes who wouldn't know who he was even if they cared to look.
But I had a feeling about tonight. Something told me that Luciano was slipping, that the man who'd built an empire brick by brick was spiraling in ways he wasn't used to.
When I stepped inside, I immediately scanned the room. It was packed with the usual crowd-people too deep in their own mess to notice much of anything. But then I saw him, and my gut tightened.
Luciano wasn't sitting in a booth, nursing a drink like I'd imagined. No, he was on his feet-or trying to be. Two men, big guys with rough hands and bad intentions, had him by the arms. His suit was wrinkled, and his shirt untucked, his tie long gone. His head lolled back slightly, and his eyes were half-closed, glassy with drunkenness. He wasn't in control here. Not even close.
The men holding him were grinning, clearly enjoying the power they had over him in this moment. I moved closer, my eyes narrowing as I assessed the situation. Luciano wasn't a man who got caught like this. He wasn't a man who let others put their hands on him without consequences.
But tonight was different. Tonight, he was vulnerable.
I stepped forward, my voice low but commanding. "Let him go."
The two men looked at me, their grins fading as they sized me up. They were bigger than me, sure, but I didn't need size to handle them. I needed them to understand that they were messing with the wrong person.
"Who the hell are you?" one of them sneered, tightening his grip on Luciano's arm.
"Someone who's about to make sure you regret this," I said calmly, my hand moving toward the gun tucked under my jacket.
The second man's eyes darted to my hand, and he hesitated. "He's drunk," the man said, as if that explained everything. "We were just helping him out."
"Yeah?" I raised an eyebrow, taking another step forward. "Looks like you're helping him straight to the hospital."
Luciano stirred then, blinking slowly and looking around like he was trying to piece together where he was. His head lolled in my direction, and recognition flickered across his face, though it was dulled by the alcohol.
"Safewane..." he mumbled, his voice slurred but still managing to sound half-amused. "You... here to save me?"
I didn't respond to him. Instead, I focused on the two men holding him. "I'm going to say this one last time. Let. Him. Go."
There must have been something in my tone, or maybe they realized they didn't want this to escalate. They hesitated for a moment longer before finally letting go of Luciano. He staggered forward, and I caught him by the arm, steadying him before he could fall.
The two men shot me dirty looks before backing off, muttering something under their breath as they slunk away. I didn't care what they said. I was more focused on the man in front of me-the man who had always been a thorn in my side, always so composed and calculating, now looking like he could barely stand.
"You're a mess, Luciano," I muttered, gripping his arm tighter as I helped him toward a booth.
He chuckled softly, the sound weak and far from his usual confident laugh. "Yeah... been hearing that a lot lately."
I eased him down into the seat, and he slumped against the back of the booth, letting out a heavy sigh. For a moment, he just sat there, his eyes half-closed as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. It was strange, seeing him like this-so out of control.
