Chapter 46: Speakeasies and Bullets

LUCA -

It had been a few days since Eveet had gone without a guard, and the moment in her room had stayed on his mind ever since.

Even the events at the bookie den hadn't fazed him as much as her standing close to him in her room and looking up at him with desire.

He was standing outside Eveet's bedroom once more and berating himself for allowing things to escalate as they had when it opened on its own in front of him.

Surprise bloomed across Eveet's face before she could hide it, and he wanted to smile. She tried so hard to stay emotionless, but he knew her. Probably better than she knew herself.

He assumed it was because of what happened with her mother, but that was a topic he refused to broach with her.

"Luca! What are you doing?" She clipped.

"I'm about to head to Maison Noire for a meeting with Carmela. She's let me know that Louis is on her schedule for tonight. I can handle it on my own, but I thought you might want to go."

"Louis?"

"The snitch who's been stealing from the stash warehouse."

Understanding danced across her features before her brows pulled in, and a frown stayed on her lips. "I see. And has Carmela been pleased with the updates to her living conditions?"

Luca shook his head, trying to understand. "Yes?" He drawled out.

Is she jealous of this dame? Why? He questioned internally, but he answered her question with a straight face. "She is. She's hoping to see you tonight after the meeting. She said there was something else she wanted to discuss with you."

"I was on my way to check on my father. When's he supposed to be there?"

"Nine."

Eveet pulled her pocket watch out and pressed the button at the top. With a clicking sound, the face popped open, and she checked the time before saying, "Good. That gives me time to see if he needs anything, and then we can go."

"I'll wait outside."

He turned to leave, but she stopped him. "Wait."

When he turned back, he saw her biting the inside of her cheek.

"Yes?"

"I'd rather you came with me. Father is... comforted, when you're around."

This was new. Normally, she liked visiting him with no one else present. Claiming things were personal.

"Alright."

At his response, she moved through the doorway and shut the door before they made their way to the Don's room.

When they got there, he was asleep. Which made sense as the sun had already set and the Opium would have been administered for his pain. He stood by the door in uncomfortable silence as Eveet spoke to her father about her day.

It wasn't long before she stood, and they left her father's bedroom. He was more confused by her request now than he was before they went in.

She would pause every so often, and her gaze would shift to him briefly before moving back to her father. It was almost like he was making her nervous, but he wasn't sure.

Perhaps she needed the support, and that was all it was.

Memories of the other night filtered through his thoughts, and he couldn't stop his gaze from moving down to her lips as she turned to him outside the door. Luckily, he was able to avert his eyes before she saw anything.

"Thank you for that." She paused. "He's getting worse every day, and I hate seeing it."

So she did want me there for her. The thought warmed him, even though he knew he shouldn't let it.

"I'm here if you need me, Signora Eveet." At her title, he watched the shutters come down over her eyes.

"Of course." She said with an emotionless smile. "Shall we?"

The oak doors thudded shut behind Luca and Eveet, the humid night air clinging to them as they slipped into the Packard. The engine rumbled to life, a low growl that filled the silence between them as the tires crunched over the gravel drive.

Luca’s hands gripped the wheel, his knuckles pale under the moonlight filtering through the trees. The ride to Maison Noire stretched on, the city’s shadows sliding past the windows, but Eveet said nothing, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

He wondered if the other night weighed on her as heavily as it did on him. The way her breath had quickened against his neck after the summit chaos, and her hand grazing his in the alley as they fled the Lafitte shadows.

Then the other night, her lips were so close to his that he could smell the Sherry on her breath.

Did she replay it as much as he did? Did she have the same ache to feel his lips finally against hers? It gnawed at him like a blade.

He knew that she wanted him, but was her desire as strong as his, or was it simply because he was supposed to be off limits?

Maison Noire rose from the French Quarter’s haze, its blacked-out facade pulsing with muffled jazz. Luca killed the engine in the alley, the car ticking as it cooled.

They moved up to the back door of the club before he muttered, “Stay close." The first words either had spoken since they left the estate. She nodded, her eyes meeting his for a moment. He watched something unspoken flicker there before it vanished.

They pushed through the back door, the Matranga bouncer grunting approval, and the smoke hit them like a wall. Chandeliers cast jagged light over flappers twirling and card tables roaring with hooch-fueled bets. Luca’s hand hovered near his knife, a habit born of too many close calls.

The head girl, Lola, sashayed over, her rouge thick and her silk dress clinging. “What’s the word, Luca?” she purred, eyeing Eveet with curiosity.

He leaned in. “Carmela." He paused, trying to give her the meaning without having to spell it out. "Where’s she at?”

Lola jerked her thumb toward the stairs. “Top floor, last door. She got new digs. Upgraded after that last haul.” She winked at Eveet. “Watch yourself up there, doll. Them boys are rough.”

Luca nodded and pulled Eveet with him before she said anything to Lola. This wasn't normally the type of place she went, so the girls here didn't know that she'd pull her dagger on them just to show her station.

He guided Eveet up the creaking steps, the air growing thicker with sweat and secrets. The sounds of feminine laughter and male pleasure sifted through the doors as they passed them.

When they got to the door at the end of the hall, he had them wait. The sound of giggling from Carmela and grunts from what was most likely Louis leaked through. Crude, urgent sounds that set Luca’s teeth on edge.

He signaled Eveet to hang back, easing the handle, but the hinge squealed. Louis whipped around, naked and slick with sweat, freezing mid-thrust. Carmela yelped, yanking sheets over her chest.

Luca and Eveet burst in, guns drawn. “Hands up,” Luca snarled, voice low and deadly.