Luciano | Book I ✓

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A/N: Thank you all for the 4.7K followers, 2.4M reads on Luciano (I never thought it would get that many reads, ever), and of course the almost 100K votes! You hear that? It was me, screaming. I want to say: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!

Warning: You may or may not want to be concerned about the picture up there. Possible triggers, probably some sadness... This chapter will probably play with your emotions, so hold on for the ride.

10, 630 words. I don't know how it happened.

I am updating fairly quickly with little proofreading. I apologize for the grammatical errors.

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"Every human walks around with a certain kind of sadness. They may not wear it on their sleeves, but it's there if you look deep." ~ Taraji P. Henson

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| Liam Luciano |

"They probably found out I'm missing, they'll probably take me back home. Holy shit, you'll probably go to jail for 30 years-"

"Technically, a kidnapping punishment is usually one to twenty years," Federico is the first to speak up, as the four of us march up a hill – partially walking, partially running – towards the back entrance of my home. Faith just grunts a response from somewhere behind Dom and I as we march up the hill fairly quickly.

I stop walking the minute I hit my back patio. Everyone gathers around me as I catch my breath. I shoot a glare at Rico before turning to Faith. "Nobody is going to jail. Besides, I don't look good in orange."

We continue our short walk through two glass doors that lead to the inside. Dominic gets there first, smiling oddly as he slides the door open, allowing me to walk in first. But before I can, he leans down, mumbling quietly, "But Liam, orange is the new black."

I ignore his statement, but I can't help but hear the chuckling that goes on behind me as I enter the house. The floor was in a frenzy; men were scrambling down the steps, hands on their guns as they came skidding to a stop in front of the windows. Groups of five, sometimes even ten men scrambled to one window, peaking, and leaning over the rest of the family to see the cop car still making its way up our lengthy driveway. The chatter was held to low rumble, giving me time to think and assess the situation.

"Hey!" A loud irritated-like screech came from behind me; Rico, Dominic, and I whirl around. Faith stands behind the glass doors, arms on her waist as she points to it. "Dominic!" She screeches his name again, "You held the door open for everyone but me." With a raised eyebrow, I watch her fling the door open and stomp the short distance to where we stood. I leaned away from the two as she came face to face, toe-to-toe with my underboss.

She huffs and she puffs, but she doesn't scare Dom in the slightest. He, too, has the same expression as I do on my face; confusion, yet slight amusement. He gives me a look out the corner of his eye, before folding his hands respectively over another and smiling softly. Faith folds her arms across her chest.

"Well," She starts speaking again once she realizes Dominic has absolutely nothing to say to her. "Let me refresh your memory then," Faith waves a hand in his face; he doesn't flinch. She lowers her voice and attempts to speak in a Italian accent; least to say, she fails, miserably. "As long as you are in my presence, you won't ever open another door."

The same smile Dominic had on his mouth stayed. He looks at me, as if I'm supposed to give him some order, some command, that will allow him to respond. I nod subtly and somehow, he and Faith grew closer together. He leans down over her short figure and lowers his voice; in volume and in tone. "I did say that," Dominic responds, "But Faith, I didn't get to the position I am today by allowing people to walk all over me. A gentleman is one of many qualities I possess."