Chapter 7 - The Declaration of War
Jake clawed frantically at Luca’s scarred hand, his eyes wide with bulging, unadulterated terror. The arrogant smirk had vanished, replaced by the pathetic whimpering of a trapped rodent.
“I’m... s-sorry...” Jake wheezed, his face turning a deep, suffocating blue. “I’m... sorry... Ava...”
Luca held him there for two agonizing seconds more, demonstrating absolute dominance over the man who had tormented my life, before casually releasing his grip. Jake collapsed onto the polished marble floor in a pathetic heap, coughing violently and clutching his bruised throat.
Sergei Volkov took a slow, calculated step forward, his jaw tight with restrained fury. “You violate the neutrality of the Emerald Gala, Castellano. In front of high society.”
“There is no neutrality when a thief threatens my family,” Luca responded coldly, brushing imaginary dust from his tuxedo lapel. “Take your dog and leave my city, Volkov. If I see either of you south of the Canadian border after midnight, you won’t leave in an airplane. You’ll leave in body bags.”
Sergei’s pale eyes flicked from Luca to me, a venomous smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Seattle is a big city, Don Luca. Fortresses have cracks. Let us see if your little family survives the winter.”
With a subtle flick of his hand, Sergei turned on his heel. His two massive enforcers hauled Jake up by his arms, dragging the coughing coward toward the emergency exit doors.
The high-society crowd remained frozen in terrified silence until Luca turned to face the room. He raised his crystal glass of scotch toward the orchestra.
“Resume the music,” Luca commanded.
Instantly, the conductor raised his baton, and the sweeping strings of a Vivaldi concerto filled the cavernous museum, breaking the tension like shattered glass. Guests immediately returned to their hushed conversations, pretending they hadn't just witnessed the shadow ruler of Washington State nearly execute a man in broad daylight.
Luca turned back to me. The lethal storm in his eyes vanished the moment his gaze met mine. He offered his hand. “Are you alright, Ava?”
My heart was hammering against my ribs, adrenaline singing through my veins. But looking at the calm, immovable mountain standing before me, I didn't feel afraid. For the first time in my life, I felt completely, untouchably protected.
“I’m better than alright,” I whispered, placing my hand in his. “Thank you.”
He led me onto the central dance floor. Despite my pneumatic cast, Luca guided me into a slow, elegant waltz, supporting almost all of my weight with his powerful frame so that my foot barely touched the ground. His right arm was wrapped securely around my lower back, pulling me flush against his hard chest, while our fingers remained tightly intertwined.
“You handled that with great poise, Donna Castellano,” Luca murmured, his breath warm against my ear as we swayed to the music.
“I was terrified at first,” I admitted, resting my cheek against his lapel, breathing in the scent of cedarwood and crisp night air. “But when you grabbed him... I realized Jake is nothing. He’s just a coward who preys on the weak.”
“He is a ghost who forgot he was already dead,” Luca said softly. “Tomorrow, my tactical units will sweep the waterfront warehouses. We will cut off Volkov’s supply lines and force them out of the state.”
As we danced under the sparkling chandeliers of the museum, surrounded by Seattle’s most powerful figures, I looked up into Luca’s dark brown eyes. The dangerous don, the mafia boss feared by an entire coast, was looking down at me with a tenderness so raw and profound it made my soul ache with longing.
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In that moment, I knew our marriage was no longer just a contract on paper.
It was real.
