“Of course,” he says, hand brushing his chest. “You think our Don would accept information from an untrusted source?Per favore.The lives of ourfamigliaare at stake.” He taps the table once. “And you should already know thatil Donholds the safety of the Moretti family above all else.”
Spike nods immediately. “Of course. My apologies.”
Luca inclines his head, accepting. “Is nothing. But when we speak of danger,” he adds, voice dropping into something colder, “we speak with precision. With respect. Because the wrong move…no matter how small…could be deadly.”
“Is your Don willing to share the intel he has?” I ask.
“Only if an agreement is made to work together,” Luca replies. “La fiducia…trust…is something we must settle before either of us stands a chance against the Mexican Cartel.”
“That’s bold of you to say,” Bones cuts in, arms crossed, “when your Don doesn’t trust us enough to show his face. How the hell does he expect to win this war if he fights from the shadows?”
Luca’s smile curves…slow and amused…like Bones just said something adorably naïve.
“Oh, but,my friend,” he says with faint laughter. “You are wrong.Il Donis never hiding in the shadows.”
Bones narrows his eyes. “Funny. Haven’t seen him yet.”
Luca taps his temple. “But you all know his face. You know his name. You have heard it whispered in business. In back rooms. In deals made and unmade.” His voice deepens. “And make no mistake…he knows yours.Every one of your names. Your family. Your friends.”
Tank shifts in his seat.
Luca continues, folding his hands neatly on his knee.
“Il Dondoes not show his face to prove power. He does not speak loudly. He does not threaten.” A small, respectful nod toward Spike. “He respects you. All of you. And for years he has told hisfamiglia… that the Shadows are under Moretti protection.”
That freezes the room.
Spike sits straighter. “We don’t need protection.”
Luca shrugs lightly, as though it’s simply the natural order of things.
“He believes in reciprocity. You keep your word. You keep your territory clean. You deal fairly. For the Don, that is enough.”
His dark eyes sweep over us, lingering just long enough to make each man feel seen.
“He protects those who hold honor,” Luca says. “And your club…whether you accept it or not…has earned that.”
He leans back, expression settling into something firm.
“So do not mistake his absence for fear or deception.” Luca spreads his hands gracefully. “Il Donwatches.Il Donlistens. AndIlDon protects. He will show himself to you soon. But for the moment, he must remain unseen. You will understand in time.”
“Are we being watched?” Maverick asks suddenly from his place in the corner, chin tilted up toward a shadowed corner of the ceiling.
“Yes,” Luca answers without the slightest hesitation. “Even now, Il Don sees your faces.”
Then Luca tilts his head, studying Maverick with mild curiosity.
“But tell me…why do you stand in the corner? Would you prefer a different type of chair?” He gestures vaguely at the velvet seating, lips twitching. “I know these ones can be… how you say…unnaturallysoft.”
Spike clears his throat. “Maverick’s very vigilant. He almost never sits in a room full of other people.”
Luca nods, accepting that without question.
“Capisco.I understand. In our world, vigilance is a virtue.” He taps the arm of his own chair lightly. “EvenIl Donstands more often than he sits. A man must always know how to move when danger comes, sì?”
Maverick gives a single shrug, staying exactly where he is.
Luca continues, calm and composed as ever:
