Chapter 497: Spread Our Wings
"I understand," Marco said and he did, truly.
In their world, trust was a risk. Men smiled with knives under the table. Blood betrayed blood. Brothers became enemies. Loyalty had to be proven again and again until death finally made the record permanent.
"But I’d rather eat a bullet than do something that will ever hurt Ma."
Massimo nodded. Marco loved Carol with a son’s certainty, and that loyalty extended into every choice he made. "I should break you away from Luca," Massimo said, studying him. "Make you a Don of your own. Another city. Spread our wings."
Marco’s answer came without hesitation. "I’ll always be with Luca, Don. He is my brother. I have to head back now."
"Yes," Massimo said. "I will get what you requested for to you as soon as possible."
Marco nodded and walked out. Massimo watched him go, broad shoulders stiff, steps controlled, refusing weakness. Once again, his mind drifted to Julian. He wondered how strong the famiglia would have been if Julian had half the tenacity and loyalty Marco did.
*****
Luca held Bianca’s phone in his hand as he stood beside Vee in the tech office at Commissioned. The club outside was alive again, but this room felt removed from all of that. Just low screens, cold blue light, wires, security feeds, silent men at computers, and the thick pressure of everyone waiting for one call to drag the devil out of hiding.
Vee stood close enough for her shoulder to brush his arm. She wanted to see. Needed to see. Bianca’s death had not ended the fear coiled around them. Tony was dead.
Luca looked down at the phone. Bianca’s phone case was still immaculate. Gold-edged. Expensive. He unlocked it.
One of the tech men, leaned closer to his station. "We’re ready, sir."
Luca dialled Bianca’s last call. The room seemed to hold its breath.
One ring.
Vee’s fingers tightened around his sleeve.
Second ring.
The call connected. Luca remained silent. He waited. On the other end, there was nothing.
Only silence.
Vee felt her pulse beat in her throat. Luca’s face revealed nothing. It didn’t matter anyway. He did not need whoever it was to speak.
The moment the call connected, the tech men got to work instantly. Fingers flew across keyboards. One man switched screens, pulled up a tracking interface. Lines of code moved too fast for Vee to understand, but she understood the tension, understood Luca’s stillness.
He was calm. Everyone watched the main screen with bated breath as the signal began to narrow. A map loaded, pixel by pixel, the circle tightening with agonising slowness.
America filled the screen then the East Coast, then New York. Vee’s stomach dropped. Her hand slipped from Luca’s sleeve to his wrist, holding on to him as the signal closed around the city.
Luca’s eyes darkened.
Across town, David sat in the café holding his phone in his hand. He had already begun to suspect something was wrong when Bianca hadn’t called him for a few days now.
So David played the waiting game. Phone pressed to his ear. Eyes fixed on nothing. No one spoke on the other end.
Neither did he. At first, silence suited him. Silence let him think. Silence let him decide whether Bianca had finally gotten careless.
Then a thought struck him. He lowered the phone slightly and glanced at the screen. Twenty-six seconds.
Fuck.
David ended the call immediately. He had sat there too long. Long enough for someone good to begin a trace. He looked across the empty café.
The place suddenly felt exposed. David stared at Bianca’s number for another second, then backed out of the call screen and opened his contacts.
His thumb hovered over a name he had not touched in years.
Ma.
He had not spoken to her in so long that the idea of hearing her voice felt less like family. He was not even sure she would remember him. She used to send him pictures, and food while he was in the slums in Italy but fear of her husband wouldn’t let her visit.
But he had no choice. He had to contact Bianca or at least find out if she was okay. David pressed the call button.
The phone rang before it connected. His mother’s voice came through, older than he remembered. Thinner too.
"Hello?"
David closed his eyes briefly. "Ma..."
The sharp gasp on the other end cut through him in a way he had not expected.
"David?"
"Ma," he said, forcing his voice steady, "have you heard from Bianca?"
His mother began to sob instantly. Uncontrolled, ugly grief pouring through the speaker. David’s fingers tightened around the phone.
No.
No, no, no.
He did not have time for that. "Ma!" he snapped, his voice cutting through her grief. "Where the fuck is Bianca?"
"She is dead..." Graziella’s voice broke apart on the words.
David went still.
"She is dead, David," Graziella sobbed. "Luca killed her. Your father picked her body up at the airport a few days ago. We are preparing for the funeral."
Bianca.
Dead.
The word did not fit her. She had been loud even in silence, always certain the world owed her space. And she did deserve the attention she got. She was beautiful in every way, perfect, his sister.
Now Luca had taken all the space she had left.
"He killed my baby. He killed my baby. I warned your father."
David’s jaw tightened. Of course she had. Father never listened. Instead, he would throw his family away.
Now Bianca was in a coffin.
"Ma," he said, his voice turning cold. "Find out Bianca’s contact for a private flight. I need to be smuggled back into Italy with cargo."
"David?"
"Yes, Ma."
At first, he wondered if she would ask him not to come but Graziella Vitale had lost herself to grief.
It made her bloodthirsty.
"Kill him," Graziella said.
David’s lips curved. "Gladly." He ended the call. His fist tightened around the phone. He stared out through the café window at the empty pizza parlour across the street, his reflection faint over the glass—calm face, dead eyes.
(200 power stones)
