Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 392

Chapter 392: Pack Your Boys Up

Voss actually believed him. Not trusted him. God, no. A man had gone missing. Another man had vanished the same day.

And somewhere inside all that, someone was moving pieces on a board both of them had been too busy hating each other to study properly.

"I’m not exchanging information with you," Voss said. "If that is what you are implying."

Luca gave a faint, humourless smile. "Detective, please. I would never imply you were useful enough to be my partner. I will investigate on my own too," Luca continued, ignoring the warning, "and I hope for the sake of whoever is doing this that you get to them first."

Voss heard the threat inside them. Everyone did. "Since we are being honest about our feelings, Luciano..."

"Did you kill my father?" Voss asked.

The vendetta beneath it all had finally come alive.

"If I say no," Luca said at last, "you wouldn’t believe me, Detective." Luca looked past him at the officers still scattered around the garage. "Pack your boys up," he said. "You’re done with Commissioned. Have fun in the other places."

Then Luca turned and walked away.

*****

Veronica arrived back home that evening with one clear plan: spend the rest of the day with Nonnina, avoid thinking about missing men, angry detectives, and Luca’s enemies.

The house still felt strange. Beautiful, yes. Grand, absolutely but intimidating. The mansion rose around her. Marble floors, sweeping staircase, expensive vases. Every hallway smelled of wealth.

And now she lived here. Officially. The thought still made her stomach flutter. She was excited. Of course she was. Luca wanted her here. Nonnina wanted her here. Even the house staff had started looking at her with that careful respect that made her feel like she had wandered into someone else’s life.

But excitement did not make unpacking any less tedious. Her things had arrived earlier that day, packed into boxes and garment bags, waiting upstairs to be sorted, folded, hung, arranged. She could already imagine Luca being useless about it.

She sighed and headed straight for the kitchen. Wide counters stretched across the room, pots hung above a central island big enough to host a small wedding, and two ovens gleamed along the wall.

A few maids were there, moving quickly and quietly around the space. Veronica stepped in, and all three women straightened almost at once.

That was going to take getting used to.

"Where is Nonnina?" she asked.

One of the maids, a young woman with dark hair pinned tightly at the back of her head, answered first. "She went upstairs to take a nap."

"Oh..." Veronica’s shoulders dropped slightly. "Alright."

"Did you need something, ma’am?" another maid asked.

The maids understood from what Nonnina had repeatedly drilled into them for the better part of the day that Veronica would soon become the official lady of the house. The regime of the terrorist Bianca was over and there would soon be a breath of fresh air.