Undressed By The Mafia God-Chapter 128: You’re Being Creepy

Ricardo raised a hand and gave him a small, exaggerated wave.

Marco did not wave back.

Ricardo approached the car, stopping just outside the window. "You’re being creepy," he said lightly.

Marco’s gaze didn’t shift. "I told you to stay away from her."

Ricardo leaned down slightly so they were eye to eye. "And I told you I will. When she asks me to."

Marco’s jaw tightened. "When are you going back to Vienna?" Marco asked.

Ah.

There it was.

Ricardo smirked. "Wow. Are you itching to get rid of me because of Valentina or because of your job?"

"My job is stable," Marco said evenly.

"Valentina then?"

Marco scowled, reached into the glove compartment, and pulled out a gun.

"Wow. Wow. Wow." Ricardo threw both hands up instinctively, stepping back with exaggerated caution. "Let’s not escalate from glaring to homicide in under sixty seconds."

"Relax, fool," Marco muttered, inspecting the chamber with professional indifference. "I came here for her shooting lessons."

Ricardo blinked. "Her shooting lessons?"

Marco gave him a look that suggested the conversation was already exhausting. "You think I sit outside polishing my personality?"

"Oh," Ricardo exhaled, lowering his hands slowly. "Thought you were going to shoot me there for a second, papa bear."

"I’m seriously thinking about it," Marco said flatly.

He shoved the door open without warning. It swung wide and smacked Ricardo squarely in the thigh.

"Jesus—"

Marco stepped out, shutting the car with deliberate force. "Stand closer next time. I’ll improve my aim."

Ricardo rubbed his leg. "You’re a delight."

Marco ignored him and adjusted his jacket, the gun disappearing into the holster at his back.

"Any word from Luciano on when he’ll be back?" Ricardo asked casually.

Marco froze.

Then he turned slowly.

"I cannot believe the Don thought you could replace me. What’s your business with when Luca is going to get back? He’ll be back whenever he wants."

Ricardo shrugged. "Just asking a question. You know. Making conversation."

"Well, shut up," Marco snapped. "Nobody wants to hear you speak."

Ricardo let out a low laugh. "Touchy."

Marco didn’t respond. He turned and strode up the path toward Valentina’s house.

*****

Luca arrived back in New York that night. His jet lag clung to him, but excitement burned hotter than exhaustion. He headed straight to Veronica’s annex apartment.

His pulse was steady but charged. He had replayed her voice in his head for the entire flight.

He reached the door and pushed it open.

It didn’t move.

Locked from the inside.

His brows lifted slightly. He knocked. "Bambola..." he called. He rested his palm flat against the door.

"Veronica," he tried again.

There was the soft shuffle of feet, the faint drag of fabric, then her voice filtered through the door.

"Who is there?"

"Vee, it’s me."

A pause. Long enough to be deliberate.

"Oh. You’re back."

Not I missed you.

Not finally.

Just observation.

"Yeah," he said, impatience creeping in despite himself. "What’s going on? Open the door."

"I’m a tad bit tired tonight," she replied. "I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night."

He stared at the door.

Then his jaw tightened.

"What the fuck. Bam... open this fucking door."

"Will you try not to throw your usual tantrum and respect my decision?"

Luca inhaled sharply, dragged a hand down his face, forced control back into his bloodstream. He lowered his voice, smoothing it with effort.

"Bambola... I know you’re mad at me. But please... open the door. Let’s talk."

"Luca," she said, and his name in her mouth sounded tired rather than tender. "You didn’t think I was just going to welcome you back with open arms, did you?"

He closed his eyes.

"I am exhausted. I’ve had a long day. So please... we will talk tomorrow."

He heard her footsteps retreating. "Bam... Bambola...Veronica Scalese! You get back here and open this fucking door!" He ran an agitated hand through his dark hair. "Oh, you think you bad, huh?" he muttered under his breath, pride stinging. "Fine. Tomorrow it is."

He turned sharply and stalked back toward the main building, every step radiating fury.

He had landed in Vienna and twelve hours later he was back on another plane, ignoring reason, ignoring the Don’s raised eyebrow.

For her.

And she had locked him out like an unwelcome salesman.

Oh, she was going to have it.

She was going to feel exactly what it meant to deny him.

Nonnina noticed the mood the moment he crossed the threshold.

When Luca’s shoulders were set that rigidly and his jaw worked, you did not probe.

Dinner appeared before him without commentary. Not a single unnecessary word floated across the table.

Afterward, she ran his bath, by the time he stepped out of the water, she had vanished entirely.

Questions about Vienna could wait.

Tonight, the bear had teeth out.

*****

The next morning, Luca woke late, sunlight already stretching across the ceiling in golden lines. His body felt wrong. Heavy. Out of rhythm. Jet lag pressed behind his eyes.

Still, habit overrode fatigue. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

He swung his legs off the bed, shrugged into a robe, and grabbed his phone from the nightstand and headed to the apartment once more.

The scent of citrus cleaner met him.

One of the maids stood near the window, cloth in hand, polishing the glass.

"Good morning, Mr. Genovese," she said, startled but polite, already gathering her supplies.

"Where is she?"

"Miss Scalese?"

Luca turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing. "Who else? The Queen of the Netherlands?"

The maid swallowed. "She left for work already."

Of course she did.

The maid disappeared with impressive speed.

He stood there for a moment, scanning the space.

He walked to the sofa and dropped into it, leaning back, robe falling open slightly at the collar. He dragged a hand down his face again.

What the fuck was she trying to pull?

He had expected a little frost.

Not this.

He unlocked his phone and tapped her name.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

His jaw tightened with each tone.

The call continued ringing.

(Brought to you by Jennifer Willard)