LUCA
Iregretted the fact that I was forced to kill a man I loved as a friend. Not the way I loved Enzo and Tristan, but a friend, nonetheless. Tony was the one who'd gotten me into the club the day I was shot in broad daylight, and I would always appreciate that. Yet it was quite obvious he had no respect for me. If he had, he never would've laid his hands—or his mouth—on my woman.
And he never would've taken my brother's side.
In the car, heading back home after our delivery was canceled because Rene's cousin wasn't "feeling it," I'd watched on my phone as Veda had invited Tony to stay for dinner. How he'd accepted. And how they'd laughed and talked and drank like old friends. I saw immediately what she was trying to do, and I also saw the moment she changed her mind. My Veda was an open book to me. There was nothing she could hide.
Tony, on the other hand, knew damn well they were on camera. It was the reason he'd been so forward with her. He'd wanted to rub it in my face how easy it had been to steal her away from me. Or so he'd thought. A few weeks ago, I'd started suspecting he was working for Mario. I don't know what he'd offered him, but it was enough to turn one of my most loyal men away from me.
The original plan was to take him out to the garage and get him to tell me what my brother was up to now through whatever means necessary. But that had all changed the moment he pressed my vita up against that wall.
"Drop his head off on my brother's doorstep," I instructed Milo.
"You got it." With the body wrapped in a tarp from the garage so it wouldn't drip blood all over the house, Tristan helped him pick it up and take it out to his car. Milo was my cleaner. He would take it off the property and dispose of it. I didn't know how or where, and I didn't care. All I knew was he had worked for me and some other members of the family for years. We paid him well, and not once had the law come knocking on our door. As a matter of fact, not one of the bodies had ever been found. He was fast and efficient, came whenever we needed him, day or night, and looked like a California surfer with his shaggy blond hair cut short on the sides and back, green eyes, and a hoop earring.
When he was gone, we called in some help for Lisa to remove any trace of blood from the walls, floor, table, and chairs. Since I'd used a knife instead of the gun tucked into my pants, it had kept the mess relatively contained. It had also been much more satisfactory for me.
By the time I headed upstairs to shower and change, carrying my shoes and socks so I didn't track anything through the house, Veda's father was back in his room, and she was waiting for me in ours.
She turned from her spot by the doors leading out to the balcony when I came in, staring at me like she didn't know me. "You murdered him. Right in front of me."
I ran my eyes over her. She was covered in blood. "Take off your clothes," I told her.
"He wasn't even armed."
Her face was pale. Too pale. "Veda."
Her eyes shot to my face.
"Your clothes. There's blood on them. Take them off."
She looked down, her eyebrows going up in surprise when she saw all of the blood on her clothes and bare legs. "Oh my god."
Grabbing a plastic bag out of the closet, something I kept there for occasions such as this, I dropped my shoes and socks inside and then took off my jacket and shirt and dropped them in the bag, along with my pants. In only my boxer briefs, I took the bag over to her and set it on the floor by her feet. I'd have to have the cleaning crew come back tomorrow and help Lisa scrub the floor everywhere Veda might have walked.
"Come here, amore. Let me help you."
She stood as if in a daze as I took off her shirt and shorts, dropping them into the bag. When I looked up, her gray eyes clashed with mine. "Why did you do that?" she asked me. "Why did you cut him open like that?"
"Because you're mine," I told her simply. "Because it felt good. And I'll do the same to anyone who tries to take you from me."
She searched my face. Always searching. "I'll never be able to leave you, will I?"
I looked her right in the eye. "No, amore. Your place is with me now."
"What will you do to keep me with you, Luca?"
"Anything, amore. I would do anything."
She hesitated, but only for a second. "Would you kill your own brother?"
The short answer to that would be yes. Of course, I would. I would do it gladly. And not just for her, but for me as well. But at the moment, my hands were tied. I brushed her hair away from her face. "Mario will get what he has coming to him in time. Let's get cleaned up and go to bed. We can talk tomorrow."
But when I went to walk away, she didn't follow me. I stopped and turned around. She stood exactly where I'd left her. "Veda, are you coming?"
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "No." A sob escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her hand, then hurried to the closet.
I frowned and followed her, watching silently as she grabbed a dark-colored shirt out of her drawer and pulled it on over her bloody bra, then started digging around for a pair of pants. "What are you doing?"