Chapter 73 TAKE THEM OUT
••Luciana••
For a whole week, there was nothing but continuous celebration. The New Year festivities took over, and I didn’t even realize how fast time had passed until the second week. Everything went back to normal so abruptly, like it had all been a dream. I was finally in a routine, even though I wasn't exactly sure how to handle the shift in my life.
The second night after I returned from Sicily, I had gathered the courage to tell Damian about what happened between Roman and me. His reaction was typical, he squealed, excited to squeeze out every single detail.
I wanted to strangle him from the phone. There's no way I was telling him about how Roman’s touch made me feel, or how he had been gentle with me in ways I’d never imagined. He was a dreamer if he thought I would share such intimate things with him.
As usual, Damian took the opportunity to lecture me on everything, from how I should take things slow with Roman, to how often we should be intimate, and how to “take charge” of my man. It was as if I were a 16-year-old teenager just having her first relationship. But he had no idea what it was like. No one could understand.
Roman and I traveled to New York during the second week of the new year because he had work commitments there. As his wife, I had to be present beside him for all formal meetings—of course, according to the "Acts 1 Section 2" of the contract that binds our marriage. Like that even matters anymore.
Being away from home gave us the space to bond more, both physically and emotionally. Roman had suggested a bunch of activities for us to do over the course of the week. He had planned everything, or at least I thought he had, but that big-headed motherfucker! He kept showing up late, giving excuses about prolonged meetings or "business stuff," as he called it. Despite all that, we still managed to have some amazing moments together.
Tonight, Roman had planned for us to go to his family’s establishment, well, more like a club, to get reports from his capos. Instead of staying home, he wanted me by his side for this.
I took my time getting ready, deciding to dress up for the night. I wore a red dress with gold adornments that caught the light with every movement. The fabric hugged my body perfectly, the deep neckline accentuating my curves while the gold details on the hem and the straps added just the right amount of elegance. My heels clicked softly as I walked, the delicate gold chain around my neck adding a touch of sparkle. I glanced at my reflection one last time. I looked perfect—at least, that’s how I felt.
When we arrived at the club, it was clear that it was no ordinary place. This was a VIP club, the kind where everyone seemed important. No one looked random, everyone had an aura of authority about them. The security was tight, and there were checkpoints everywhere. As soon as Roman and I approached, the guards made way for us, their heads lowered as if we were royalty. This was the Orlov territory, after all.
Roman led me to a booth at the top right corner of the club. It was perfect. From here, I could see everything going on, but no one could easily spot us. I realized this was his personal space, always reserved for him.
Theo and Vikoz, Lorenzo’s aide, arrived shortly after. Roman ordered drinks for everyone before they began the discussion. I barely understood the business side of things, but I knew it was important. The conversation flowed as the capos came one by one to give their reports. Everything seemed calm, until the last capo stepped up.
••Roman••
The reports from my men weren’t causing me any issues; they were all manageable tasks that could easily be handled. That is, until it was Fergos’ turn. Fergos was one of the new capos, appointed by my father, not me. I didn’t trust him fully yet.
"Speak," I said, my voice low and commanding.
"Yes, Signor," Fergos began, his eyes flicking nervously toward the others. "Word has been spreading that the Orlovs are against the Unity of the Mafia because no one from your family attended Marco Valerio's banquet for peace between the Mafia families."
Theo muttered under his breath, “That son of a bitch.”
I remained silent, staring at Fergos, waiting for him to finish.
"I found out that he’s the one spreading the word," Fergos continued, his face tense with the weight of his words.
"The bastard’s trying to get our attention," Vikoz added.
I remained still, contemplating my next move. Marco Valerio had always been trouble. Our families had been at odds for years, and it wasn’t just business—it was personal. Marco was trying to get control of the trade routes we used, and that wasn’t something I was willing to let him have.
"That’s all for now, Signor," Fergos finished.
I nodded, signaling for him to leave. “Okay. Take care of it.”
I turned to the others. “It’s time we take a bold step against Marco.”
“If he’s trying to rally the other Mafia families against us, it’ll hurt our business,” Vikoz said, sounding concerned.
“But our allies won’t go against us that easily, will they?” I asked. I wasn’t fully convinced. There were too many variables to consider, and Marco was no fool.
They didn’t answer right away, but I could tell they were thinking it over. That’s when I noticed the five men who had just entered the club. They didn’t belong. They looked strange, dangerous, and they were scanning the room as though they were looking for someone. I narrowed my eyes.
“Go check out these people,” I ordered Vikoz. “They don’t belong here.”
Vikoz and Theo got up, heading toward the men. I could see them exchanging words, but it wasn’t until one of the men, clearly the leader, shoved Theo on the chest that I knew something was off.
“They’re from Marco,” I muttered, standing up.
Luci, who had been relaxed beside me, immediately tensed at the sight of the confrontation. She could tell things were escalating. The heated argument continued until both sides pulled out their guns, and that’s when the club’s atmosphere changed.
“What do they want now?” Luci asked, her voice tight with concern.
I was already moving, striding toward the men. The last thing I needed was for this to become a public spectacle. The club was supposed to be a private gathering, but now, everything was at risk.
“What the hell do you want?” I demanded when I reached them.
The leader of the group smirked. “The one we’ve been looking for finally shows up,” he said with a sneer. “We simply told these guys we wanted to see you, and they wouldn’t let us in.”
“I said, what do you want?” I repeated, my anger flaring.
The man reached into his pocket, and Vikoz immediately had his gun aimed at him.
“Oh, relax,” the man said, holding up his hands. “It’s just paper.”
He pulled out an envelope, and Theo quickly snatched it from him, tearing it open. Inside was an invite, a note from Marco Valerio, inviting us to the next Mafia banquet, a peace treaty, whatever the hell he was calling it now.
“Just make sure to show up next time,” the man said with a sickening grin.
I stared at him, my blood boiling. “Next time you show up here and cause a scene, or come onto Orlov territory, make sure you’re prepared to lose your head.”
“Take them out,” I ordered Vikoz and Theo. I didn’t care if it caused a scene. They were threatening us in our own home.
I turned away and went back to Luci, who was watching with wide eyes.
“Marco Valerio,” I said through gritted teeth, my anger barely contained.
“Who’s that?” Luci asked, now focused on me.
“That son of a bitch,” I said again, fuming. I regretted not dealing with him sooner.