Chapter 50

Chapter 50
LUCA'S POV

TIRED.

"Damn..." I muttered, rubbing my temples as I leaned back in my chair. My body slumped, drained from the endless meetings, reports, and calculations that had consumed my entire day. The digital clock on my desk blinked. Too late for comfort, too early to stop.

I exhaled, pushing away from my desk slightly, locking my fingers together, and raising both arms high above my head with a groan. My muscles tensed as I stretched, and my shoulder blades crackled with an oddly satisfying sound.

I tilted my neck to the left, then to the right…crack!...a subtle release that made my eyelids flutter. A low hum escaped my throat. "Ahhh... I'm so tired..." I muttered, dragging my hands down my face as if that alone could wipe away the exhaustion that clung to me.

I rose from my office chair, even though I'd just stretched. There were still those stubborn little knots and aches sitting untouched, buried in the corners of my back. My body was a map of stress, and I couldn't just ignore it. Leaning back, I arched until I heard another satisfying crack along my spine. Then, rotating my waist leftward, I gave a deep grunt as the tension popped free. I mirrored the motion to the right, and another, even louder crack echoed in the room.

"Yeah... that’s the spot..." I growled under my breath, letting the temporary relief sink into my bones. My body felt looser and lighter, but the peace was fleeting.

But...

A vibration on the desk snapped my attention instantly. My eyes shifted to my phone glowing on the polished surface, the light flickering faintly against the office's dimness.

"That should be Sis," I chuckled under my breath. She was always on my neck whenever I was late for dinner, even by a second. Her sense of time was deadlier than any bullet. I shook my head, a smile creeping across my face.

But as I leaned forward, the smile faded. Something felt...off. The name displayed on the screen wasn’t hers.

I squinted slightly. The screen’s brightness was blinding against the low light of the room, making the letters blur together at first. I blinked, then narrowed my eyes as the name came into focus.

An unknown number.

"Who's this..." I muttered, my voice dropping as I felt a flicker of unease crawls up my spine. I paused, fingers hovering over the screen as my brain did a rapid-fire scan of possibilities. Not many people had this number. Definitely not strangers.

Still, there was only one way to find out.

I grabbed the phone, swiped across the screen, and answered the call.

No sooner had the line connected than my eardrum was assaulted by a loud scream.

"Boss! Boss! Martinez, he... he..." The voice on the other end stammered, ragged, panicked, trembling. The tone sent an immediate jolt of electricity shooting through my body.

I straightened, my body going stiff. “Talk to me. What happened to him?” My voice was sharp, clipped with urgency, laced with rising panic I didn’t have time to entertain.

The man hesitated for a beat, then the words came out like a death sentence.

“Sir... he... he is dead…”

Time stopped.

My breath hitched, caught in my throat. The words echoed in my ears as if the room had gone hollow. “What…? What the fuck…” I growled, my jaw locking as my molars ground together. My free hand clenched into a trembling fist while my other curled tightly around the phone, squeezing it so hard the plastic creaked under the pressure.

“Sir... he... he was stabbed to death. We couldn’t make it in time to save his life…”

"Don’t fucking say that to me!" I exploded, my voice thundering through the room. I took a step forward, then another, like pacing would somehow calm the chaos ripping through my head. “What the hell?! Aaarrrghh!” My roar bounced off the walls, primal and raw.

My breathing was harsh, my chest rising and falling like I’d just sprinted a mile in under a minute.

“Did you see who did it?!” I demanded, fury and desperation crashing together in my voice. “Tell me whoever it was didn’t make it out of there alive. Tell me!”

There was a pause, a soul-splitting silence that only deepened the fury boiling in my chest.

“We saw him… but before we could catch up, he got into a car and sped off…”

Silence.

Dead, heavy silence.

My fist tightened until I felt my nails dig into my palm. My heart thudded violently in my chest as my eyes stared at nothing, my mind spiraling into fury and disbelief. Martinez… gone?

I slowly exhaled a breath that trembled with restraint. My head tilted down, eyes locked onto the carpet as my teeth clenched again, grinding from the tension that felt like it would crack my skull open.

“Boss… you still there?” the voice called out, timid, unsure.

I didn’t answer right away. I forced myself to breathe, grounding myself and putting my emotions in check before I spoke another word. I needed to be more than just angry. I needed to be calculated.

Finally, I spoke.

“Get him back to base,” I said, voice low, guttural, but steady. “Martinez has been a true soldier to the Moretti family. His days were loyal, his blood spilled with honor. And his prosecutor…” I growled the word, letting it hang in the air like a curse, “....will pay dearly for this mistake.”

I paused, letting the storm build inside of me, uncoiling slowly in my gut like a venomous serpent. My blood burned with rage, hotter than fire, heavier than steel.

“This is war. Blood… shall be paid with blood.”

“Understood, sir,” the voice replied quickly, now filled with conviction.

“Gather the rest of the men at base and brief them,” I continued, my voice sharp as a dagger. “Tell them everything. I want every man armed, alert, and ready to respond. This wasn’t random. This was calculated. And we’re going to return the message... tenfold.”

“Yes, sir.”

I was about to end the call when a name…an all too familiar name….slithered through the back of my mind. It crept in, uninvited, dark, and sinister.

I whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, “Sandro…”

The name alone tasted like venom on my tongue. The memories attached to it were not peaceful..

“If you did this…” I muttered, my voice carrying an edge sharp enough to draw blood, “You’ve bitten off far more than you can chew.”