Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 376

Chapter 376: I Asked A Simple Question

If Cassidy had been right—if Luca’s weakness was truly buried there, then the old woman would be the lever that moved everything else.

Luca would explain what had happened to Cassidy. Truthfully, Renato did not care much for Cassidy.

Luca and Renato had both spent years living inside the illusion of peace in New York. Renato had never overstepped too boldly because Luca’s reputation was already something close to folklore—too violent to dismiss, too disciplined to provoke casually. And besides, this was New York, not Italy.

In Italy, families like theirs could move mad. Here, they had to be more careful. Luca had the careful part mastered.

The man got away with everything. Renato had spent years watching it happen—watching Luciano Genovese move through New York like he owned not just territory, but consequence itself. Deals, bodies, disappearances, retaliation, silence. Somehow Luca always remained one step ahead of anything that should have stuck to him. Even now, with word coming in that he had been arrested at the airport, Renato felt no real satisfaction.

Because he knew. Nothing would stick. Not for long. Not unless Luca was betrayed from the inside.

And that, historically, was where things became difficult. Luca’s capo was a rock. That was the consensus. Marco was quiet, watchful, terrifyingly competent. A man who didn’t need to be loud to make everyone around him more cautious. Rumors said Luca’s real strength came from him—that Marco was the wall around Luca, the thing that made the devil of New York feel untouchable, impenetrable.

The message came then that the old woman’s taxi had been ambushed. She had been successfully retrieved.

Now, he thought, it was time to wait. Luca would come to him. Renato set the phone down on the desk.

This should be good. If Cassidy was right that the old woman truly mattered as much as rumored, then Luca would be forced into concession, maybe. And Renato intended to profit.

He wondered what part of the devil’s territory he would take first. Maybe this was his year.

Maybe this was the moment the balance tipped and he became the king of New York. His mouth twitched at the thought.

He had been a good little boy all these years, hadn’t he? Stayed in his lane. Maintained his space. Kept the illusion of peace intact while Luca strutted around like the city itself was stitched into his suit lining.

And then the Genovese had stepped on his little toe. There was no reason, Renato thought, anyone could honestly say Luca didn’t deserve what was coming.

He tapped one finger against the desk and frowned slightly. The old woman presented a problem.

How exactly was one supposed to torture an old woman? She would probably just die after five minutes. Renato found the idea deeply inconvenient. If it had been someone younger, sturdier, there were all sorts of ways to send a message. A hand. A thumb. Something memorable in a small box to make Luca understand the tone immediately.

That, frankly, would have been more entertaining. Instead, he had a fragile piece on the board and would have to be clever about it.

Renato sighed once, mildly disappointed by the limitations of age.

*****

When Enzo entered his study that night, he did not expect to find his wife and daughter on their knees waiting for him.

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