Under the City Lights

Chapter 13

POV: Luca

The Maranzano men's fashion show is in full swing with handsome men in slim high end suits walking down the runway where Zara can gawk at them. Maybe I didn't think this through. I'm not normally the jealous type at all, but something about the way Zara's eyes are glued to the stage instead of me hits me the wrong way. I know that it's a fashion show and she's supposed to be watching and taking in all the new clothes, but it'd be more helpful if the male models didn't smirk at her as they walked past. I protectively place a hand on her knee and sit so close to her that when I turn my head to look at her my nose brushes against her gorgeously curled hair.

I'm watching Zara watch the show as the lights chance from dark purple to a deep red as a new set of suits file down the runway. With every new color that illuminates her face, I see something there I haven't noticed the time before like the few freckles that line her cheekbones or the tiny gold flecks in her beautiful grey blue eyes. I'm so mesmerized by Zara that I barely register a man clad in an all black suit sitting across from us in the third row back. His eyes are intently trained on us or me. I'm not so sure, but he looks down at his phone and types something before looking back up to meet my glare. He looks a little too suspicious for my liking.

Suddenly, the man in the all black suit sees me watching him and slightly nods his head enough for me to notice. What the hell? I'm not suppose to meet up with anyone today. I have no hits out on men and I'm not waiting for a report back from anyone. The man gets up and breaks eye contact. He slowly and unnoticeably walks out of his row and out into the foyer. I'm assuming he's waiting for me to follow.

I squeeze Zara's knee. "Enjoying the show?"

She nods and smiles up at me, "It's amazing what that designer can do. What was his name again? Mr. Fiorentino, right? I'll have to interview him for the magazine sometime. The way he portrays a sense of power and sophistication throughout his pieces is really impressive."

"Yeah. He's great. Listen I've gotta go make a quick phone call to Renzo. Remember him right?" I wait for her acknowledgement. "I won't be long."

I try to get up quietly and unnoticed. Luckily, we are seated at the end of the front row so I don't have to cross in front of people. I walk around the back of the stage and out into an empty foyer where people were gathered earlier before the show. The man in all black stands near a balcony awning rapidly speaking Spanish into his phone. Fuck, is he with the Gonzalez?

I walk over to him then he notices my presence and cautiously looks around to make sure we are alone.

"Luca Maranzano?" He asks.

I nod. "Sí, and who might you be?"

"Isaac. I work for Santiago Gonzalez. You might've heard of me through a message Rico was suppose to send."

I've never heard this bastard's name in my life, but just hearing the name Gonzalez makes my stomach drop to the floor. Why the fuck is he contacting me directly? The Gonzalezes have balls showing up here. Santiago Gonzalez is the main regio for the Mexican cartel who runs half of the underground drug syndicate of the tri-state area who oversees and manages the logistics of this territory. Rico who killed Sebastián is just a baron trying to move up the ranks on his way to becoming a made member. I had told Renzo to do some digging.

"Well Sebastián is no longer here to take the message so I'm listening." I fold my arms over my chest and lean back against the railing. I don't have time for this.

Isaac continued, "Look Luca. Your men really fucked up this time. Sebastian shouldn't have come after the Gonzalez's cousin like that. It's not our fault that he left a trail straight to himself. If you Maranzano's were smart enough then Rico wouldn't have seen the opportunity to put a hit on him. The point of me being here is that we know that Sebastian didn't do the job alone, so tell us who was in on it? Save us the trouble of having to find out for ourselves. If you don't tell us, we aren't afraid to make..... shall we say a statement."

This is news to me. I've been told that it was just Sebastian! Why have I not been informed that another dumbass went along with him?

First I try playing dumb, "Isaac, is it?" He nods. "Sebastian worked on his own. He went after the Gonzalezes bad for business cousin, David Flores.
You know the bastard of course. He's whacked a few of our guys over complications in Argentina a couple years ago and multiple since then. You can see why he's a problem to us especially since our families have stayed out of each other's business, but when your babbeo of a cousin, David, shows his face at our operations, you should know shit will go down. Sebastian did your fucking asses a favor. David was as I've said... bad for business. He needed to go."

I've really gone and pissed off Isaac now. He rubs the back of his neck and walks closer towards me. In a whisper says, "And yet Sebastian didn't do it alone. I'm not playing games here, Luca. I'm asking nicely. Give up your guy, because the Gonzalezes don't leave scars."

"Sei un rompicoglioni," I shake my head. "Follow me." We we're starting to draw attention.
(You're a pain in the ass)

I lead Isaac around the awning to a staircase going up to the next floor. We walk into one of my dad's offices behind a great mahogany door into a soundproof room. God, I really hope Zara is fine down there by herself. She wouldn't be proud of what I was about to do. I cross the room to sit on top of the desk. Should I have locked the door?

"Isaac, I tried to be polite, but you're really testing my damn patience." He just stood in front of me looking comfortable. I'll have to change that.

"All I'm asking you is to turn over your other guy. That's it. Hand him over or give us his name and this will be over. If you don't, there'll be bad blood between us. We don't want that."

"Of course you don't. You'll lose." While he closes his eyes in annoyance, I take off my suit jacket and wrap it around my fist and arm. I can't have bloody knuckles if I plan to hold Zara's hand.

Isaac opens his eyes quick enough to realize what I'm doing and he reaches towards a concealed gun at his waist. Before he gets the chance, I punch him hard across the face. There wasn't a lot of distance for me to cross. The gun scatters across the floor, but there's no chance for Isaac to reach it. I grab him by his shirt collar and repeatedly strike his face, soaking my suit jacket that's now wrapped around my fist in his blood.

I let go of his shirt and he falls to the floor clutching his face. "Vai a quel paese!" (Go to hell)

While he lays there soaking the marble floor in crimson, I walk over to his gun and put it in my own waistband. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make."