Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 382

Chapter 382: We Should Call Don First

Luca didn’t believe a word of what she had just said. So, instead, he held her until he was sure the worst of the tremors had passed. Until her breathing no longer sounded like she was drowning standing up.

Only then did he release her. He turned to Marco.

"Suit up."

"We should call Don first. This is a Bastione matter. Besides, Voss—"

"Suit the fuck up!"

The roar cracked through the house. Marco gave one hard nod and moved at once, pulling out his phone as he headed for the door.

Luca turned back to Veronica immediately. "I need you to head to bed," he said.

She opened her mouth.

"No. Do not worry about a thing. Nonnina will be making you breakfast by morning."

Veronica nodded wanting to believe.

"Come on," Luca murmured. He guided her upstairs himself, one hand at her back, the other ready in case her legs gave out or the panic returned.

When they reached the bedroom, Luca led her to the bed and made sure she was lying down properly, adjusting the pillows then he turned to leave.

"Luca?" Vee called.

He had already reached the doorway, one hand on the frame, the whole shape of him sharpened by urgency. Still, he turned immediately at the sound of her voice. "Yes, love."

Veronica’s throat tightened. "Come back to me."

"Always." He said and left.

Veronica sat back up in bed instead of lying down like she had promised. Her body still felt shaky, the remnants of panic lingering in her chest. She stared blankly ahead for a long moment, not really seeing the room around her. She took in a shuddering breath. Then another.

Her mind began replaying the day in jagged fragments. No break. Not a second of real rest since they touched down in New York. Veronica pressed both hands against her face for a moment, then let them fall. Her fingers drifted instinctively to her stomach again.

Were they ever going to be happy? A long stretch of peace. A season with no gun shot wounds.

Were they ever going to have that? She didn’t know.

*****

He never did it cleverly as a child. It was always too fierce, all his small body stiff with rage as he stepped in front of her or shouted or shattered whatever obedience the house expected from him in that moment. He always knew he would be punished for it.

Always. And he did it anyway. For her. For a mere nanny. Forgettable, they would say. Disposable, they would say.

But not to Luca. Never to Luca.

Nonnina opened her eyes again and stared ahead into the dim room, headache pulsing. He had always protected her. Even when he was too young to win. Even when it cost him. Even when silence would have saved him pain.

So yes, she would wait. Somewhere out there, her Diavolino would already be coming—with all that fire, all that devotion, all that terrible love these foolish men had mistaken for weakness.

He had decided to call her Nonnina when he was little and it had stuck. That was why she knew that he was coming for her now. Luca might let the world think many things about him. Cold. Cruel. Untouchable. But he had never, not once in all the years she had known him, abandoned the people he claimed in his heart.

He just had to hurry. Her head was killing her. The ache had settled behind her eyes and along the side of her skull. Every sound seemed too loud because of it.

Still, she managed a little prayer. For Zuccherino. For the bambino. And of course for her Diavolino.

Then she closed her eyes again and waited.

(100 golden tickets! Lets hit that 200 for another Chapter)