He nodded his appreciation and took a sip. His dark eyes roamed up and down her slender frame in appreciation.
Luca climbed the steps slowly, the weight of the estate pressed heavy against his chest as tall columns towered over his six-foot four height. One day he’d go inside but today just wasn’t that day. He had visited his father’s grave every day since being out of jail. Luca just wasn’t ready to step into his childhood home without his father’s presence.
“Well, I sure am happy to see you, son.” Sr. said, his scratchy voice was low.
Di Lucas held his wrinkled hand out. Luca grabbed it and squeezed firmly, showing respect. It had been too many years since he saw his grandfather. Laying eyes on him in the flesh brought him comfort and pain all at once. His grandfather’s face carried echoes of his father. They had the same eyes and wide nose.
This is what Pops would have looked like when he got to grandfather’s age.Luca thought. He nodded his head at the server and tested if she had been properly vetted like the rest of the house staff when he was free.
“Hot lemon and ginger tea, please.”He signed the words to her.
She smiled politely, lifted her delicate pale hands and signed right back to Luca proudly, like she had been waiting to prove her training for years.
“Very well, sir… I am pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Bonetti.”She bowed her head gracefully then quickly marched away.
“My mother was Portuguese like her; she was the most beautiful woman in the world to me until I met my late wife. If Lucille can spare an extra server… I’ll take her.” Di Lucas swirled his cognac for a beat before taking another sip.
Luca smiled for the first time in years then took a seat. Nothing changed with Di Lucas. Luca wouldn’t be surprised if his grandfather was still having sex. He was a natural flirt, very smooth and player with his words when it came to women. Besides his grandmother, he had a cold line up of women at his beck and call.
When Di Lucas retired from the mob, he relocated with his women to Thailand. The country had whispered to him decades ago when he vacationed there with his wife a little bit before she died. He moved because Thailand asked nothing of him except that he exist and live the rest of his days in peace.
There were no old vendettas in the background out there for Di Lucas to watch for. It felt good to take a walk by his house without having to look over his shoulder. Out there, his name didn’t ring bells, but his wealth did. Whenever the Grand Reaper came to collect, he was prepared to exit with a smile on his face. Fully satisfied. Life was easy, his house was surrounded by beautiful greenery and staff that loved and adored him.
Di Lucas turned slightly, studying his grandson. A half smirk graced the old man’s face, taking note of the clean cut and attire attached to Luca. He was proud of him without Luca having to prove anything to him in actions.
“Good to see you, Pops,” Luca’s voice scraped out harshly.
Luca picked and chose who to bless with his voice. His grandfather knew sign language fluently, but Luca didn’t wanthim to sign to him. When he was six, a blade was sliced through muscle and nerve, grazing his voice box and stealing the strength of his sound. Doctors saved his life but not his voice. When he spoke it burned, and tea became his aid. The warmth of it soothed the damage and the lemon cut through the tightness. Ginger calmed the ache, it also smoothed his raspy whisper into something that let him be heard without suffering.
Together the men quietly waited to speak until the server returned. She placed the cup gently into Luca’s hands. He signed thank you before she walked away. He blew at the top then took a slow sip. Relief spread instantly. Di Lucas watched him over the rim of his cognac glass. He tossed back the remnants of what was left in the cup then finally spoke.
“I stayed for you… Lucille placed some men to watch over me until it’s time for me to go back overseas.” He chuckled dryly.
Luca knew that what his grandfather said was partially true. Di Lucas was a great observer like himself. Leave it up to Di Lucas, he had all the answers about who killed his son.
“I’m not here to tell you how to run shit. This…” He gestured his hands outwards. “Is all rightfully yours.” Di Lucas winked.
“Everything is frozen until I get answers,” Luca said evenly.
The breeze shifted as the men embraced a silent stare off.
“I talk to my son that day,” Di Lucas stated simply.
Luca’s chest tightened, his nerves eased. Finally, someone spoke about the day his father was murdered. He was disappointed in Lucille for not giving him any kind of closure. It made him distance himself from her, and she became a suspect and Luca hated that because he loved her just as dearly.
“He spent the morning alone, even ate brunch by himself. After that, he sent the staff off. You know how he liked to meditate without interruptions. By nightfall, he was in his penthouse suite downtown…the one about six miles from yours.” Di Lucas licked his lips and frowned.
He picked up a small golden bell and shook it. He needed another drink, talking about his son and the day he died twisted up his insides.
“That’s where they found my boy. One shot to the head, the other to the chest.” Di Lucas spat out bitterly.
Luca closed his eyes for half a breath as his grandfather continued to talk.
“Footage of the building?” Luca whispered.
“Scraped, every camera on that floor and on the outside malfunctioned for exactly forty-two minutes. Which is long enough for a person to handle their fucking business,” Di Lucas gritted out.
Luca’s jaw flexed, anger soared to an all-time high inside of him. His teeth grinded against each other as the server came out with a polite smile. She handed Di Lucas another crystal filled glass of cognac. He nodded his appreciation and told her to bring another in ten minutes. Once she disappeared and shut the door behind her, he continued.
