flip

**Luciano**

One thing. I love her, but she's so damn hard headed.

"Why do you have my phone in your hand, Savannah?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Cause it...rang?"

Cursing up a storm, I glared at her.

"How many times do I tell you no?"

"Almost never."

"So why the hell would you do one of the few things I tell you not to do?"

She opened her mouth, no doubt to shoot some smart ass sarcastic remark, but when she looked at me she closed it again.

Smart.

"Give me the phone, Savannah."

She hands me the phone with an apologetic face but I'm so pissed that it just doesn't work.

I shake my head. "Not now."

"Vitale?"

"We have an issue."

"I figured that out, genius. Explain."

"The Northern Estate?"

"What about it?"

"It is no more."

My blood ran cold. Fuck.

"They burned it down. Thank god you moved everyone. We would all be ash."

"Do they know no one was there?"

Niccolò huffed offended. "Really, amico? Of course not. I left it, left several calls cars, and rerouted a few calls and emails to that IP address."

"So they think we stayed inside like cowards?"

"Sì."

"Who is they?"

"Irish—Russi team up. But get this, the unit that attacked the Estate, is still ruled by Old Ferris."

"Fine. Look we have one more week—"

"I'm ready to go home." I look up at her.

"I'm getting orange."

"We'll be there. For now stay dead."

"Will do, amico."

"Don't get cocky, Nic. Dead is the easiest thing to be."

The jet is silent and angry

The jet is silent and angry. Not even a whole month married and we're already fighting.

But I can't let this go. and every time I think of it, it pisses me off twice as much.

I can always explain why I do things. I can't always tell her why I ask her or tell her not to do something.

But by now, I would think she knew better. That if I tell her no it's important.

Hell, I threw together a damn near million dollar wedding in two weeks for her. I almost never say no.

Maybe that's issue.

I know she keep looking at me like a lost gattina, but I just...

She got lucky. She was lucky it was Niccolò.

My phone can be tracked, any phone can, really. I she picks up, who ever is on the other side of that line knows exactly where she is.

Everyone knows exactly who she is to me.

What if the line was tapped? What if that Russi calling to taunt me. What it it the Mexicans calling to threaten me.

They do it all time.

But I am Luciano Vitale. I rule Chicago. I take no prisoners, I give no fucks, but one person is indispensable.

One.

And they would just let that go?

Hell, even allies would turn on me and take her.

But she wants to answer the phone. If she wants to answer phones so damn much, I'd make her a secretary.

Her job, is to stay safe so I concentrate and stay alive.

But she wants to fucking answer phones.

It's really pissing me off and it's an endless loop, because I can't stop thinking about it.

All I can do is silently fume. Because if I talk I'm gonna flip. And I know it.

My Mother always told me, those who have no filter, should not open their mouths until a flood is needed.

Here I am, almost 15 years later, thanking my angel for telling me that.

"Luciano?"

I clench my jaw. I will not speak. I will not speak I will not—

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?!"

Did you hear that? Flip. That was me flipping.

"You're sorry? Oh gee, Savannah thanks. That helps me so much!"

"Look, what more do you want me to do?"

"I want you to listen. I want you to obey the few rules I have. I want you not to answer the fucking phone!"

"Okay, Luciano."

"It isn't okay, Savannah. If it was okay would I be this angry?!"

"It's just a fucking phone!"

"It's not just a phone! I shouldn't have to explain every single thing to you Savannah. If I ask you not to do something, I would appreciate it if you didn't. If I tell you not to do something, obviously it's important. Obviously it's not just a fucking phone!"

Blowing a breath, I try to relax. I try to calm down. I need a fucking drink.

"Why did you answer it?"