Signed To The Mafia King - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

LUCA
I stepped into the room, tearing my suit off. I couldn't remember the last time I had worn one.
I snapped a finger at Demetrius, one of my men. “Pour me a drink. Make it a strong one.”
Marco waved Demetrius away and poured the drink himself. He squeezed half a lemon inside the gin and brought it over. “Don't get drunk. You still have to bed your wife.”
I grunted and gulped down half of the drink, faking a groan. Marco laughed, tipping back half his drink too. “To your marriage. May it give us healthy sons and daughters. Sons especially.”
I closed my eyes, remembering Alina's wide eyes as she stared up at me, her teeth biting into her lower lip. Oh definitely, we would make children. Lots of them if she kept staring at me like that.
“She’s going to be a wild one,” Marco said, sitting across from me. We had a meeting in three minutes. Someone had thrown a body over my wall, and I wanted to find out who it was.
I was at my small house. A small safe house where I met with people I didn’t want the world to know I was meeting with.
I opened my eyes and glared at Marco, who straightened up in his seat. “Marco, I don’t want to talk about my wife. When is Darion getting here?”
Darion was my private investigator. He worked for me alone, spending as many hours as necessary to dig and find any information I needed.
I had sent Darion a message to find out who the dead man was.
Marco took a look at his watch. “He should be here in twenty minutes.”
I nodded. I didn’t tolerate lateness. “Slash twenty percent from his cheque. He didn’t attend my wedding. He has no excuse to keep me waiting.”
Marco picked his tablet off the desk and typed something into it. He finished his drink and closed his eyes, completely relaxing his body.
That was something I had always envied about Marco. His ability to fall asleep as easily as he pleased was as natural as it was unnatural for me to do the same.
I closed my eyes and thought about the wedding. I remembered sliding the ring onto her finger. The way her hand had suddenly felt heavier in mine.
I lifted my hand and stared at my ring. I was married. Luca Marino, THE MONSTER, was married.
I lifted my drink and guzzled down all of it. I winced as Demetrius stepped back into the room. “Darion is here.”
“Wake Marco,” I said.
Marco woke and straightened out his clothes, looking like he had never slept. “He’s thirty minutes late.”
I nodded. “Good. Take out thirty percent.”
Darion walked in, holding a folder and a small leather bag in his hands. He handed the bag to Demetrius, who took it away along with his coat. “Luca, I’m so sorry I am late. You know how Chicago is.”
I rolled my eyes. Darion was always full of theatrics. “You’re lucky you’re the best, or I’d slash fifty percent from your pay. Now sit down and tell me what I want to know.”
Darion moaned pitifully. “Luca, I do good work for you. Fifty percent would be too much even if I ran away with your wife.”
Marco laughed. As did I. Then the smile fell off my face like water off the face of a rock. “If you ever make jokes about my wife again, it is not only money you will be missing,” I said to Darion.
Darion nodded, lips thin. He understood that I had just threatened his life and that I was very fucking serious about it. He handed me the folder. “There’s everything we found on the man who was thrown over your wall.”
I opened the file and read through it. I didn’t like what I saw. The man was a nonentity, had been declared missing for months after he was kidnapped on the streets of Chicago. Before being declared missing, he had been owing a few of my nightclubs almost ten thousand dollars.
“I don’t understand. He wasn’t captured by any of my men. Who killed him then?”
Darion ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not certain. There were no fingerprints left on him or the note. There was nothing on his skin. The clothes he was wearing were new, and it seems he was dressed after he died.”
I closed the file calmly and dropped it on the table between us. “I don’t pay you to give me more questions than answers, Darion. Do I assume you cannot do your job anymore?”
Darion shook his head, fear making his hands shake suddenly. My anger burned hot and cold. He didn’t want to be on my bad side. “I’ll get you the information. I just haven’t had any time. It’s barely been two days.”
I nodded at the folder. “Take that and get out. I need the information as soon as possible. Get it to Marco. He’ll get it to me.”
Darion nodded gratefully and, picking up the folder, almost ran out of the room. I stood and decided it was time to get home.
My bride was waiting for me. I cracked my neck. Tonight was my wedding night, and that was something to look forward to at least.
I walked outside with Marco beside me. Marco shook his head. “Darion’s getting sloppy. Used to be the best in Chicago. Now he’s just another overpaid coward.”
I didn’t answer. I had a bad feeling, a cold at the back of my neck. I stepped outside, breathing in the night air, searching the street.
I had heard something. Or someone.
I barely had time to pull Marco to the floor when a bullet flew over our heads.
Marco swore, already pulling his gun out of his pocket. Three men came out from hiding, holding guns in both hands.
I ran for my car. Today was my wedding day; couldn’t the men fucking wait? I grabbed the door handle just as a bullet entered my arm.
The pain made my fingers weak. I gritted my teeth and opened the car door, ignoring the blood pouring from my arm. I threw myself into the car, turning my head to stare back at the men who had shot at me.
Their heads were covered. They knew better than to attack me with their faces showing. They would all be dead by morning.
Another bullet hit the trunk. Another one cracked the side mirror.
Then silence.
I pressed my hand over my arm wound. Warm blood stained my fingers and dripped down.
Marco’s hands tightened on the wheel. “You alright?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t alright. But I wasn’t dead, either.
By the time we reached the estate, my white shirt was soaked through with blood. Marco pulled up in front of the house, and I got out without a word, my jaw tight due to the pain.
Marco followed. “You need stitches.”
I waved him off and kept walking. “Get someone to find out who did this. I want them found by morning. Send all the men if you have to.”
Marco nodded and ran away, shouting orders at the men outside. I climbed the steps, one hand pressed against my arm, the other already undoing the buttons of my jacket.
I walked into my room and stopped.
My bed wasn’t empty like I was expecting. Alina was in it, naked on her knees, her hair falling down her back and over her full breasts.
Her eyes widened when she saw my clothes. She jumped out of bed, and my fingers twitched at my side.
My stomach clenched.
I took another step inside, my voice rough.
“Alina, what are you doing here?”