Chapter Seventy Two

9 0 0
                                        

Niko

"Call team three to question the locals," Luca instructed, his voice firm as we stepped out of the dimly lit hotel and into the narrow alleyway we had recently escaped through.

Today, an eerie stillness blanketed the mainland, an unsettling contrast to the usually vibrant street life. A sense of abandonment hung in the air, likely a consequence of the violent shootout that had erupted between rival mafia families just yesterday. My choice to create that mess has sent an underlying message to every family that there's rivalry, though whether the word has spread who fought or not is still to be determined.

This mainland, a heavily fortified section of the mafia elite's holdings, was a world unto itself. Most residents were either tightly woven into the fabric of their families—through blood, obligation, or a lifetime of service—or simply enjoying a quiet retirement after a life steeped in crime. The families invested substantial resources into the community, ensuring its survival as a haven for their operations; hidden behind the facade of everyday life were warehouses filled with weapons, stockpiles of drugs, and the grim trade of human lives.

Yet, amidst this dark underbelly, there were others, like Dimitri and Lucia, who used the island as a refuge. For them, it offered a semblance of safety, much-needed distance from the chaotic power struggles, and a sense of community among those who posed no immediate threat.

"I need food," Luca murmured, striding purposefully toward the small café he frequented whenever we found ourselves in this part of town.

The establishment appears desolate, its windows dim, and the door firmly locked. However, with one solid knock from Luca, the owner swiftly appears. His face lights up with recognition as he opens the door wide, a warm greeting tumbling effortlessly from his lips upon seeing both Luca and me.

"Mr. Moretta," he bows his head slightly in respect.

"Lorenzo," Luca replies, his trademark smile softening the edges of the tension. "Please, tell me you have someone in the kitchen who can feed me and my men?"

"Of course, of course! Please, come in." Lorenzo gestures with a flourish, welcoming us into the cosy café. Inside, the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafts through the air, mingling with the low hum of conversations at neighbouring tables where families enjoy meals together. As we enter, curious eyes turn our way, glancing from Luca to me and, finally, to the entourage of armed men trailing behind us, their guns held at the ready. A frown clouds Luca's expression, a hint of anxiety radiating from him.

"Stow your guns," Luca commands in a low, steady voice, his authoritative tone brokering no argument. "Keep Four at the doors," he stipulates, ensuring security while maintaining a semblance of calm.

Our men discreetly reposition themselves. Six remain gathered around us, while two slip out through the front door and two others retreat to the back. They are vigilant and poised for any threat.

"No harm will come to your children," Luca reassures the wary patrons, who eye him with a mix of distrust and respect.

"Luca," the men reply, voicing nothing more than his name—a signal of their confidence in him.

I let out a weary sigh, settling into a chair as my thoughts spiral and intertwine. Had I missed an opportunity to call in favours the other day, perhaps leveraging our alliances to ensure the safety of Bianca, Sven, and myself?

"What's going on in that mind of yours?" Luca prompts, his gaze piercing through my distraction as he sits opposite me. Lorenzo flits over, his movements quick and practised. He pours steaming coffee into our cups and places a generous helping of bread and butter on the table before us. I stare at the simple yet comforting spread, a wave of shame washing over me as I reflect on how utterly weak I had allowed myself to feel just days before.

Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2Where stories live. Discover now