Chapter 27: Plans

Luciano

Alright, I'll admit it. I am in love with Savannah Helms. I am in love with a schemeing, plotting, manipulative, pathological liar, who, most likely would kill me if given the chance.

I can't help it. She's so...her. I fell in love with her and I don't know when. I really don't know why.

But even if she would stab my heart, it's like I can't stop myself from giving it to her.

Something about her beckons me like a moth to a flame.

You just factor in where I come from though. Italy is...Italy is best place you will ever be in the entire history of the universe.

I hate it, but its still the best place in the universe. Go to Mars? You'll wish you went to Italy. My mother was Sicilian, my Father was Tuscan.

Things were always loud in our house. It didn't matter if we were fighting. It was loud.

I'm easily offended, and when I'm offended, I stay that way for a while.

I cook. If I didn't cook, I would be a disgrace to my entire country, legacy, and family. North, and South.

I don't let go of things. Even if it's temporary, until I have to, I won't let go.

By nature I'm loud, opinionated, impatient, and suspicious.

Especially on my mother's side.

Sicilian's are crazy. Mostly, I blame bad desicions on that.

Mostly, I blame bad desicions on that

I wake up to Savannah kissing my face.

"Hm, vai via." I push her face down, "Sto dormendo."

(Go away.) (I'm sleeping.)

"I don't know Italian."

"Then learn and stop bothering me."

"You have a meeting with the Irish remember?"

My eyes fly open.

"Shit! What time is it?"

"Relax. It's five in the morning."

I look at the small woman who smiles at me from the bed.

"What would I do without you?"

Her dark brow quirks. "Start a Mob war?"

I shake my head, rolling my eyes. My meeting is seven, I don't trust Ferris. Never trust a Ferris.

There is a reason he set this meeting up.

"Baby, can you pick out my suit, please?"

"Go get in the shower."

I nod. I'm covered. I hop in the shower, my mind buzzing.

Something is off. Something is wrong, I can feel it and it's not just Italian superstition. Most likely, the Russi and Irish are working together. If they're working together, it's to bring me down.

It's been too quiet. Especially after Savannah came back. I run the largest criminal syndicate in the country.

I network with Mobs from around the world. Salvatore in New York. Pietro in Italy, and Marco my old friend.

I have alliances with most other operations.

But then again, a criminal syndicate is not exactly renowned for their love of rules. There hasn't been a hit, hasn't been a attack.

Everything is running smoothly. There is peace.

Where there is great peace, there is a greater war on the horizon.

My mother taught me that. Just before she died.

Peace isn't good. Peace means people are working together to bring me down. Peace means I most likely have rats, peace means—

"So about the wedding," I groan letting my head hit the shower wall.

"I want to get married on the eleventh of October. It has to be the eleventh of October."

Right. Cause that's not suspicious at all.

"Why?"

"Well, it's Remember Forever day. Also the month of October is, get this: Sarcasm month, and the month of Books. I can't get married anytime else."

I blow out a breath, shampooing my hair.

"Honey, Baby, Kitty, I don't think now is a—"

"You don't have to answer right now. I just want you to think about it. I know you're stressed, and I know something huge is happening."

"Something is wrong Luciano, and I think, besides it being the perfect day in the perfect month for us, I just...want to get my happy day in before the shitstorm."

Damnit. It's not like I'm gonna deny her. Besides the fact that that's nearly impossible, I think we both know that love or not, she will be in the middle of this war.

And there's no guarantee she'll walk from it alive.

I don't think I will either.

I don't think I will either

She has an outfit for me. She helps me dress, buttons my shirt, ties my tie, clips on my watch, and hands me my favorite gun.

"Fully loaded," she says, kissing me. "For luck."

She then gives me her favorite blade, tucks it my waistband. She takes of her cross, gives it a kiss and hangs it around my neck. She never takes it off.

"Don't die or I'll kill you."

I can only laugh, and kiss her. My hands wrap around her waist, I hug her close.

I love my little mob wife.

"You need to eat, I'll be home all day. I won't go anywhere until you get here."

Relief floods my body.

Thank Gods. "Bodyguard?"

With a stern look, she takes my hand. "Pushing it. Now eat."

I do. I eat, and I kiss my Kitty and I leave with my second. I call in a favor.

"Yeah. Can you come down to the estate? I need you to watch my Queen."

"I thought I was the Queen?"

"Of the South. This isn't the South. Sides, I'm your uncle and I get to tell you what to do."

"Luciano you are only a handful of years older than I am."

I suck in a breath. "Ooh, don't think so. Your twenty, and I'm twenty eight. Almost ten years."

"Oh, whatever. I'll be there. Does she know-"

"She doesn't. And she can't. If she finds out, she'll run. And she slit your throat in the process."

"Think she would succeed?"

I stay quiet for a minute.

"You and Savannah are not so different. If she feels caged, there's no limit to what she can do. Only her imagination."

"And, like you, her imagination runs wild."