“You’re not going to like this, boss,” Dante said. Luca slowed, but just barely.
“What exactly am I not going to like, Dante?” he asked.
“Serge is here,” Dante breathed, stopping Luca in his tracks. Everything in him went still for half a second until he could calm his racing heart.
“Has that information been confirmed?” Luca asked.
“He’s not hiding,” Dante said. “We have him on just about every camera in the house. It’s definitely him.” Of course, he wasn’t hiding from Luca. Serge Romano didn’t do subtle. He made grand statements. And his breaking into Luca’s house was one hell of a statement.
Luca’s grip tightened on the gun as he reached the main floor. “Open the front,” he said.
Dante hesitated. “Boss?—”
“Open it,” he shouted. He didn’t have time to waste, because if Serge wanted to walk into Luca Camorra’s house, Luca was going to let him. And then he was going to make sure he never walked back out.
The front doors opened slowly as Luca stepped out onto the stone landing like he owned the ground beneath it—because he did. Smoke still hung in the air where two bodies were already down near the gate. His men had done their job, but Serge stood just beyond them—unbothered. It was as though his men’s blood on the ground didn’t mean a damn thing.
Luca looked him over. Serge was tall, clean-cut, and his cold, blue eyes looked as though they could cut right through someone. And behind him were more men than he should’ve brought, but not enough to win. They were enough to make noise, but that was about it. If Luca had his way, they’d all be dead before they knew what had happened to them.
Luca stepped forward. “You’re a long way from where you should be,” Luca said.
Serge smiled faintly. “You took something that wasn’t yours.” There it was with no pretense. He knew that Serge wasn’t there to negotiate with him—not for Isabella. This fight was going to be winner takes all, and that worked for Luca.
Luca’s mouth curved slightly. Serge was playing a dangerous game. “You mean my wife?” Serge’s expression didn’t change, but his men shifted around him.
“You think a piece of paper changes anything?” Serge asked.
“No,” Luca said.
“Well, I do,” Serge said. Silence hit hard between them. Serge tilted his head slightly. “She was promised to someone,” he said. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”
Luca stepped down one more step, so that he was standing closer now. “I know what her father tried to do.”
“Then you understand,” Serge continued. “This isn’t personal.”
Luca laughed, which was apparently the wrong reaction, because nothing about this was impersonal anymore. “You showed up at my house,” Luca said, his voice dropping. “After I claimed her. After I married her. You made it personal.”
Serge’s eyes hardened slightly. “She’s still a Romano.”
“No,” Luca said. “She’s not.”
“She belongs to the Romano family,” Serge insisted. “She belongs to me.” Serge exhaled slowly, like he was done talking. “Last chance,” he said. “Hand her over, and this ends clean.”
Luca didn’t even blink. “No,” he breathed. He was finished discussing this also. Isabella was his—end of story.
Serge nodded like he expected his answer. “Take the house,” he said to his men, and that’s when everything exploded around them. Gunfire ripped through the air as Serge’s men surged forward. Luca moved instantly, taking down first one, then thesecond of Serge’s guards. Luca’s men responded just as fast, as bullets tore through the front line before they even made it halfway up the drive. This wasn’t a breach. This was a slaughter—but that was Serge’s mistake.
Luca advanced instead of retreating, pushing into the chaos like he was built for it—because he was. A man rushed him from the right, and Luca turned, fired, and dropped him. Another from the left took his shot at Luca with a knife and was blocked by Dante, allowing Luca to get a shot off and kill the guy.
“You good?” Luca asked Dante.
He looked at his forearm and nodded. “Yeah, just a flesh wound.”
“Push them back!” Luca barked. He knew that it wouldn’t take very long to do that. They were already breaking, because Serge hadn’t come to win. He’d come to prove something, and now he had.
Luca caught sight of him retreating—slow, controlled, and not panicked. Serge was still watching him. Luca fired once more, forcing him further back, but not killing him—not yet, because this wasn’t finished. It wasn’t even close to being finished.
Serge stopped just beyond the gate, raising his voice just enough to carry through the night air. “This isn’t over, Luca!”
