Chapter 27 – Loaded Plates

Chapter 27 – Loaded Plates

Zorak POV
“Stay here.”
I kissed Nolie rough, pressed her against the doorway so hard she gasped. My chest still heaved from the scare—the blackout, the panic, the knife in Verlin’s arm. She smelled like fear and sweat and something sweet that drove me insane.
“Verlin will keep you safe,” I told her. “He’s family. Deadly as me. No one touches you here.”
Her eyes searched mine like she wanted to argue. But I didn’t give her a chance.
“I’ll be back,” I promised, voice low, sharp. “When I bring you to the estate, it’ll be on my terms. And my father will do nothing about it.”

Her eyes flicked to mine, full of doubt. I didn’t blame her. She didn’t answer. Just shivered, still gripping that damn knife like a soldier.
I brushed her cheek, quick, rough, then stormed off.
The Padrelli estate loomed, dark windows watching me like eyes. Gravel crunched under my boots. The fields stretched wide, red poppies swaying under moonlight.
A whistle cut the air. Three shadows bolted from the stalks. My musketeers.
They swarmed me, grinning, dirt on their faces. “Boss! News, news!”
One of the field kids was waving at me from between the poppies, dirt on his face, grinning like an idiot. Then the other two popped up, running over. My little spies. My “three musketeers.”
I whistled low. They sprinted to me, dust kicking under their bare feet.
“Well?” I crossed my arms. “What’s the news? How mad’s the old man?”
The tallest one smirked. “Depends what you pay, padrone.”
I barked a laugh. “So now you extort me? I teach you mafia life and you turn it on me?”
They grinned, nodding like puppies. I pulled a wad from my pocket and peeled a couple bills. “Talk.”
The smallest leaned close, eyes wide. “Lucifer’s not as mad as you think. He… smiled. Said maybe you found a woman who finally brings out your beast.”
The other snorted. “Then he smashed a glass. Real hard.”
The tall one added, “And Mama set the table for dinner. All three plates.”
Dinner. That hadn’t happened in years. My gut twisted.
“And,” the short one whispered, eyes sparkling, “there’s a surprise waiting inside.”
“What surprise?”
They only laughed, bolted back toward the fields, calling, “You’ll see!”
I shook my head, walking toward the big house. “Little bastards,” I muttered.
The dining room smelled like roasted meat and wine. My mother sat stiff,  straight-backed, eyes down on her plate, hands folded. My father sat at the head,

The chandelier above buzzed, one bulb flickering, throwing shadows across the scar on my father’s bald skull. His plate steamed with roasted lamb and garlic, the smell thick and heavy in the air, turning my stomach. Wine dripped down the stem of his glass like blood.
A plate waited at the far end.
“Sit,” Lucifer said. Calm. Too calm.
I stepped in. My hand itched near my gun.
He didn’t wait. He pulled his pistol and fired.
The shot cracked past my shoulder, splintering the wall. I’d dodged on instinct.
“Jesus Christ!” I growled. “You trying to kill me?”
“The chandelier light caught the pink scar stretching across his bald skull. It glistened like a crown while he aimed steady at me, as if he wore his wound like a badge.”
His eyes burned. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be on the floor.”
I gritted my teeth. “So this is dinner?”
“You embarrassed this family,” he said, voice like gravel. “Running after that widow like a dog in heat. Making noise. Making enemies.”
I laughed once, sharp. “Are you trying to kill me before I kill you?”
His hand twitched on the pistol. “I told you to return her to the Veltrona syndicate. Instead, you parade her around. Do you even know the war you’re inviting?”
My jaw clenched. “It’s none of your business.”
He slammed his fist on the table, the silverware jumped, knives clattering like teeth. The chandelier swayed overhead, light flashing over his scarred head like a crown of fire.
 “Cristian would’ve never been so careless.”
The name hit like a knife. Cristian. The golden boy. The one who could do no wrong.
I walked closer, slow, leaning on the table with both hands. “Then dig him up. Ask him yourself.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’re smart. You’re not. If I find that widow before you, I won’t hand her back to Veltrona. I’ll put a bullet in her mouth and take what I need.”
I grabbed his collar, dragging him half out of the chair. “Don’t touch her.” My teeth clenched. “Think hard. Veltrona still holds the Red Box. The most powerful weapon in the mafia world. Why do you think no one can touch them? With Nolie, I’ve got a way in. She’s my key. Our key.”
He bared his teeth, not backing down. “And the difference between you and me? I don’t waste time with keys. I’d bleed her until she screamed where that box is. Then shoot her and be done. No marriage. No weakness. No war we can’t win.”
I shoved him back into the chair. “Then hope you never find her.”
Lucifer just smirked, wiping at his shirt like I was dirt. “You think you’re ready for war, boy? I was born in it.” He dropped his knife onto the plate, loud, final. “Hide her well.”
He stood and walked out.
I turned to my mother. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t say a word. Just kept staring at her untouched food like I wasn’t her son at all.
“Tell your friends,” I said loud, making sure it echoed. “I’m marrying Nolie. The Veltrona widow. As Soon As Fuck.”
Finally, she looked at me, My mother’s hand twitched, just once, against the tablecloth. 
Her lips parted, the faintest breath escaping. For a second I swore she whispered something—one word. Don’t. So soft I couldn’t tell if it was real or just the blood pounding in my ears. When I looked again, her eyes were down, blank as stone
My chest ached. For a second I wanted to beg her—just say my name, just once. But her silence was worse than a bullet.
I walked out, muttering under my breath, “Guess those kids were wrong about him smiling.”
I left the dining hall, chest still heaving. My father’s voice echoed in my skull—“If I find her first, I’ll put a bullet in her mouth.”
Not a chance.
I lit a cigarette with shaking hands. Drew in deep. The smoke burned down my throat, steadied me.
“I’ll bring her here,” I muttered to myself. My voice low, meant only for me. “I’ll bring her home. She’ll walk these halls. She’ll sit at that table. And the old man will have no choice but to accept her. Leverage is all i need”
I dragged again, bitter smoke curling around me. My jaw locked.
“Soon. I’m preparing. Soon I’ll bring her here, and he won’t touch her. He won’t do a damn thing.”
I laughed once, dark, under my breath. “He thinks he’s the devil. He hasn’t seen me yet.”
I flicked the cigarette hard. It sparked across the marble floor and died in the shadows.
The halls stretched long, cold. My boots echoed against marble. I walked past the rooms I knew by heart. Mine at the end. But one door stopped me.
Cristian’s.
It was cracked open.
 My chest tightened. I hadn’t touched it since the funeral. 
I could still hear his laugh echoing down these halls, smell the cigars he stole from Father’s stash, the cologne that clung to his jackets. 
The air leaking from the crack in the door carried that same ghost—smoke, wood, and something sharp, like memory itself. 
“I used to sneak in there as a kid just to steal his records, pretending I was him when no one was looking. Now even breathing near the door felt like trespassing on a grave.”
My hand hovered over the handle. For the first time all night, I hesitated.
I gripped the handle, pushed it slow. The air inside was heavy with dust and memory. Shadows clung to the corners.
“Who the fuck’s in here?” I growled.
Silence.
Then movement.
Then I saw it. A figure, sitting on the edge of the bed. Still. Waiting.
I flicked the lamp on.
And froze.