Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40: I Am Being Careful

"Listen," Voss said. "I am being careful. And whatever I have on Luca, I promise to keep to myself until I can build a case against him."

"You need to get Veronica away from him!"

"Unless she makes a report, there’s nothing we can do. Legally, I can’t storm his house without evidence of a crime being committed right now. You know that."

"Then send cops to question Veronica herself! Send a team to his house! I know he has her there!" Cassidy barked, his frustration boiling over, chest heaving.

"You said Luca has her sister. Maybe that’s the leverage he’s using over her," Voss said carefully. "She won’t say anything if she believes her family’s life is in danger."

Cassidy’s shoulders slumped slightly. "Then what am I supposed to do? Sit back and watch for how long? Days? Weeks? Until she’s... until she’s..."

Voss ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow exhale. "Mr. Grant, I assure you, I am working as hard as I can, as fast as I can. Luciano Genovese is a menace to this city. He’s dangerous, calculating, and he doesn’t play by any rules we know. I am personally invested in him. I will get him. But I cannot promise you it will happen on your timeline."

Cassidy’s eyes glistened. "Whatever you need me to do, Detective Voss. Please. Tell me what I need to do. I can’t... I can’t just let him have her. I have to save her."

Voss nodded slowly. "Of course. I’ll keep you updated. Every lead, every development. I need you to stay patient, stay smart, and—most importantly—stay safe. Don’t let your own emotions make you reckless. But I promise you this... I will get him. And when I do, we will bring her home."

*****

Luca woke up the next morning to the sound of his vibrating phone. He groaned, rolled onto his back, and squinted at the screen through one half-open eye. It was a video call from Bianca. He let his head fall back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

He had been ignoring her calls for a reason.

They had gotten married about a year ago, when he visited Italy on the insistence of his father to produce a Genovese heir. The senior Genovese had found him the most beautiful of women, the envy of models and celebrities alike, raised and bred to become a Genovese bride.

Bianca had walked into his life already knowing how to sit, how to smile, how to keep her opinions folded neatly away unless invited. She understood the rules of the familia. She understood silence. She understood sacrifice.

She understood everything except him.

A mob boss could not be distracted. Could not afford weaknesses. A Genovese wife was meant to be her husband’s peace, not his storm. That had been drilled into her since she was a child, shaped into her.

He wasn’t ready for an heir. He couldn’t tell his father, of course. So he had stalled. Delayed. Lied by omission. New York was unstable. Business was complicated. Enemies everywhere. He would send for her soon.

Soon had stretched into months.

Luca answered the phone, holding it at a length where it could catch his face, angling it just enough.

"Luciano..." Bianca’s voice drifted from the phone.

"Bianca, how are you?"

"I’m fine. You haven’t been picking my calls."

He exhaled slowly, already bracing himself. "Been busy," Luca said.

"Not so busy that you cannot make a few minutes for your wife."

Luca scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "Why the fuck are you talking to Julian?"

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