Undressed By The Mafia God-Chapter 130: I Care About Luciano

Make him understand the depth of the bruise he left behind.

Veronica swallowed.

The phone felt heavy in her hand. If she called now, what would he learn? That spectacle worked. Her thumb moved away from his name. She locked the screen. Slipped the phone back into her apron pocket.

The decision steadied her spine.

She rose from the stool, the pocket knife still in her hand, card folded carefully between her fingers.

She was not weak.

*****

By the time Veronica returned to the annex that evening, the city had already swallowed the last of the sunlight. Inside the Genovese estate grounds, everything felt insulated.

She was exhausted.

Nonnina had taken it upon herself to prepare a tray. Pasta still steaming. A small bowl of roasted vegetables. Fresh bread wrapped in linen. A glass of water with lemon. She walked down to the annex corridor slowly. The door was locked. She knocked lightly. "Zuccherino, it’s me."

From inside, there was the faint sound of movement. Then Veronica’s voice. "Is it just you?"

"Yes."

The lock clicked. The door opened just enough before Veronica stepped back, allowing her in.

Nonnina entered without fuss, balancing the tray.

Veronica closed the door behind her and leaned against it briefly. She had changed out of her work clothes but still looked wound tight. Her dark hair fell loose over her shoulders now, slightly damp from a rushed shower. "Nonnina, I could have come get that. Why did you have to bring it yourself?"

Nonnina set the tray down carefully on the small dining table. She arranged the napkin. Adjusted the fork.

"Because I need to talk to you."

Veronica straightened.

"This madness going on between you and Luciano, end it. The man is already a live wire and you messing with him will only make him explosive."

"Nonni... are you saying then that I should just swallow whatever he does."

Nonnina sighed. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out that way."

She moved closer. "It’s just... I care about Luciano. His pain is my pain and right now, he is in pain because of you."

Veronica looked away. Pain because of her. She was in pain because of him.

"I’m not saying bend over. I’m saying he’s fragile when it comes to you..."

Luca was many things. Dominant. Calculated. Ruthless when necessary.

But fragile?

Nonnina had watched Luca grow.

Veronica understood that.

But she also understood herself.

She was not someone who absorbed impact quietly. She just wanted to be seen fully.

To be chosen openly.

Vee sighed and pulled out a chair at the dining table.

"Is this because he went to Vienna? Because of his wife?" Nonnina asked.

"Yes." Vee answered.

Vienna was the reminder that no matter how passionately Luca claimed her, there was a ring somewhere else, a life somewhere else, a woman whose title carried more legitimacy than love ever could.

"Zuccherino...." Nonnina walked over to her and pulled a chair so she was facing her. "You remind me so much of Luca’s mother. She was the same." She said with a smile. "She didn’t like the idea of being the other woman. She didn’t like the violence in the familia either."

"So she left?"

"Yes but she was only allowed to leave alive because Don has a soft spot for Luciano. Luca begged for his mother’s life when he was no older than ten."

It explained too much. It explained the obsession with control. The need to orchestrate every room. The refusal to ever appear vulnerable. A child who learns that love can vanish at someone else’s discretion grows into a man who refuses to let anything slip from his grasp.

"Is that what is going to happen to me?" Vee asked. She was not naïve. She knew the world she had stepped into.

"No one can know the future, Zuccherino. But what Luciano feels for you isn’t even anywhere close to what he feels for Bianca."

"It doesn’t comfort me, Nonnina."

Because it shouldn’t.

Being loved more intensely than a wife did not erase the existence of the wife. Passion was powerful, yes. But structure was stronger.

"He loves you, that should be comfort enough. Love him, please." Nonnina begged.

"I do."

But love was not the argument.

"No, I mean... love all of him... the bad, the annoying, the depressing."

Vee exhaled slowly, eyes lowering to the table.

Loving a man like Luca was not a soft occupation. It required spine. It required endurance. It required the ability to stand inside a storm without dissolving.

"Will you let them notify me when he gets back?"

Nonnina’s face broke into an exaggerated smile, relief flashing openly across it. She rose from her chair and leaned down to press a warm kiss against Vee’s head. "I will, Zuccherino. Thank you! Thank you. Now eat your food and finish it. You haven’t been eating much."

"I’ll try."

When the door closed behind Nonnina, Vee remained seated for a moment, listening to the silence. The tray sat untouched. Steam no longer rose from the pasta.

She stood slowly and walked into her bedroom. She opened the closet and reached toward the back where she had placed her purchases.

She unzipped it carefully.

Inside lay tools.

She had let him stew long enough.

It was time to remind him that power in this relationship did not belong solely to him.

*****

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, Ricardo was under a different kind of spell entirely.

He had walked Valentina home from the pizza shop earlier, arms loaded with designer shopping bags swinging from his hands. Chanel. Gucci. Valentino. The sister tax she had claimed with shameless delight.

Ricardo settled into the sofa, stretching his long legs across the low coffee table, which was cluttered with bags.

"So what in the world brought on this monstrosity of stuff?" Ricardo asked as his eyes traveled over the carefully arranged avalanche of packages and shopping bags, each tagged with the unmistakable logos of high fashion.

"Luca’s apologising for something. I’m guessing he took my advice."

"You advised Luciano to do all of these?"

"Well, not in these exact words..." She gestured toward the piles, arms extended in an elegant shrug. "But I told him action speaks louder than voice."

"I better not get on your bad side then, cause there is no way I can afford all of these."

"I thought you work for the familia," Valentina asked, brow slightly arched.

"Well, I thought I had a spot with Luciano, turns out I don’t. So, I’m just spending a couple more days with my Zia and I’m heading back."

"Heading back to where?"

"To Vienna."

"Oh..." She stepped back as she tried to mask the sudden tension tightening around her chest. "Oh...Uh...I, yeah...oh... How long have you known?"

"Known what?"

"Known you wouldn’t be staying?"

Ricardo rose from the sofa. He took a single step toward her, but Valentina mirrored him instinctively, stepping back.

"How long?"

"Since the day we met." Ricardo answered.

Valentina stared at him. "So what is this? What are we doing?" she asked.

"Enjoying each other’s company?" Ricardo ventured.

"You should go."

"Val!"

"Go, Ricardo. Now!"

He raised his palms in surrender, stepping backward toward the door before turning.

The click of the door closing behind him echoed through the room. Valentina sank into the couch as soon as the sound faded. Her fingers dug into the soft fabric, her mind spinning in loops. Men were so stupid...stupid...stupid...stupid. Enjoying each other’s company? Then what?

He would just fly away into the sunset, right when she was only just beginning to like him. Her chest tightened, a little pulse of heat in her stomach as the thought of his departure pressed against her. Stupid!

*****

Luca was just peeling off his clothes, muscles coiling and stretching. He had not seen Veronica in three days, and three days was already far too long.

Every step she had taken away from him hammered against his heart. He felt hollowed out, restless, a storm of anticipation and frustration swirling beneath the surface of his skin.

The bedroom door slid open silently. She stepped through.

"Bambola..." he whispered.

"I didn’t come here to talk. I came here to give instructions."

Every muscle in his body coiled in reaction to her audacity.

He noticed the set of her shoulders, the careful tilt of her chin, the way her eyes seemed to dare him to challenge her, to defy her without a single word being spoken. He knew he was utterly powerless in the face of her authority. Three days without her had sharpened every nerve. Three days of longing had left him raw and fraying.

A ghost of a smile threatened the corners of his lips, fleeting but the presence of her, the sharp command in her eyes and the sway of her posture, made him reel. "Okay?"

"Freshen up and come to my annex. But you have to do everything I say, exactly how I say it. Is that understood?"