Page 37 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Prince

“Fine. The Carusos are a traditional family, so you had better start learning how to be an obedient wife.”

Chapter eleven

Luca

Three Years Later

“Ahhh, it’s been a while.” My eyes gleam with mischief as I make my way down the aisle.

“Welcome back, Boss,” one of my loyal operatives, who is also one of my spies, greets me. His voice is filled with great respect.

Sterling and Vito flank me, walking behind me. I continue speaking to no one in particular, my words hanging in the air like a challenge. “I’ve been stuck in Miami for three fucking years now; I hope I didn’t miss much.”

“Hey, Sterling, make sure nobody knows I’m in the city,” I say, my voice low and menacing.

Sterling raises an eyebrow, his expression cautious. “Would you prefer to stay in a hotel, sir? It might be... prudent, considering.”

With a smile and a voice filled with amusement, I say, “You think the whole city will be aware of my arrival if I go to the De Santi mansion, don’t you?”

Sterling nods, his voice measured. “Yes, sir. It’s likely.”

I tap his shoulder, my smile growing wider. “That’s a good idea, Sterling. Book me a suite at the Plaza. I’ll lay low for now and let the Mancinis think they’re safe.”

Vito speaks up, “What’s the plan, Boss? You’re not just here to catch up with old friends, are you?”

My head raises and I turn to him, not bothering to mask my sinister tone. “Oh, no, Vito. I’m here to settle scores. Gianna’s just the beginning.” A small chuckle escapes my mouth. “I plan to do a lot more than catch up...”

After we arrive at the hotel, Vito and Sterling go book a room while I hide my face with a baseball cap and a face mask. It’s too soon to ruin the surprise if someone sees me and marks me this early.

“Follow me, gentlemen,” the hotel worker says as she walks in front of us, leading us to the suite.

The Plaza’s luxurious suite envelops me in its large and beautiful embrace. I reach into my pocket and bring out a cigar and alighter. The cigar’s flame dances in the dim light as I take a slow, deliberate drag.

My eyes drift across the Manhattan skyline, my eyes narrowing as I pinpoint a distant location. “That used to be my favorite spot to visit with Gianna,” I say, unable to shake off the feeling of nostalgia. A cold, mirthless chuckle escapes my lips as I gesture towards another spot. “Around there is my mother’s favorite spot.”

Sterling’s voice breaks the silence, his tone carrying a hint of excitement. “Boss, one of my men has intel on Giovanni’s whereabouts for the night. He’ll be at Club Europa; a big party’s going down.”

My eyes narrow, the cigar smoke curling around my face like a sinister halo. “Ah, Club Europa.”

I take one last drag, the ember burning bright red, before walking up to Sterling. I puff the smoke directly into his face, feeling the coldness root deeper in me. “Perhaps it’s time to pay my old friend a visit.”

Sterling’s expression remains impassive. “I’ll get the car ready.”

My eyes keep staring far away, into the distance, before I break the silence again. “I need a black Tuxedo and a black Rolls Royce for our little event this evening.” I pause. “Make sure Giovanni doesn’t leave.”

“Black tuxedo and a Rolls Royce, got it, Boss,” Vito responds.

Sterling nods, his eyes locked on mine. “One of my men has his eyes on him.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to decorate the streets with your head,mi amigo(my friend). You know how I hate... mistakes.” I tap his shoulder, my fingers drumming a slow rhythm, before walking past him towards the bathroom. “I need to... refresh myself. Vito, get everything ready. I want no surprises tonight.”

Immediately, I enter the bathroom and strip off my shirt, my muscles flexing in the mirror’s reflection. I feel and look like a different person.

My body is now a canvas of ink; tattoos snake up my arms, most of which I got in Miami. A serpent coils around my right bicep, its eyes gleaming with evil. On my left forearm, a skull grins with macabre humor.

On my chest is my personal favorite, a bold portrait of my father, Salvatore De Santi, staring back at me. His eyes seem to bore into my soul, demanding vengeance.

I touch the reflection in the mirror, my fingers tracing the lines of my father’s face. My voice drops to a low, ominous tone. “Vengeance is coming, Father... I promise you that.”

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