She frowned thoughtfully, swaying closer, breasts pressing against his chest. "You have sex with women you pay, Luca," she said bluntly, logic slurred but sincere. "What kind of vibes do you think I would get?"
"Ouch." He winced theatrically. "God, I wish you weren’t high while we were having this conversation." He sighed, then added dryly, "And you weren’t pressed so hard against me. It’s distracting."
She laughed again, delighted, resting her forehead against his shoulder.
"Awww... little Luca wants to play," Vee drawled. Her smile was all trouble, lips curved like she knew exactly where to press and couldn’t resist doing it anyway.
"Little?" Luca scoffed, arching a brow, mock offense flickering across his face. "You wound me."
She squinted up at him, clearly considering this with drunken seriousness. "Sorry," she murmured, reaching up to pat his chest as if consoling him. "It’s not little. It’s big." Her mouth twitched. "You think it’ll fit."
Honestly, Luca was enjoying himself far too much. The tension of the night had cracked just enough to let this absurd, dangerous levity slip through, and he loved how good it felt. But reality was already clawing its way back in. Julian and Marco would arrive soon.
"Trust me," he said dryly, adjusting his grip on her before she could sway again. "It’ll fit." He shook his head, a ghost of a smile still lingering. "But I’ve gotta make sure you get home, Bambola. I’ve got work in a bit."
She pouted, but didn’t argue when he bent and lifted her bridal style. Her arms slid around his neck automatically, fingers tangling in the collar of his jacket. The corridor outside his office was quiet, guarded by men who looked anywhere but at her bare legs hooked around his arm. Everyone pretended not to notice. Everyone knew better.
Her assigned driver was already waiting with two other men near the reception area. He straightened the second he saw them, moving fast. He opened the door before Luca even reached the car.
Luca lowered her carefully into the seat, adjusting her dress so it didn’t bunch, brushing a strand of hair back from her flushed face.
He turned to the driver, his expression flattening instantly. "If she loses one hair," he said calmly, "you’re dead."
"Yes, Luca," the driver replied, already sliding behind the wheel.
Luca stepped back and watched the car pull away, taillights disappearing into the night. He stood there, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, waiting until it was fully out of sight. Only then did he turn, the last of that warmth draining out of him.
The sound of another engine cut through the garage.
Julian’s car rolled in, timing impeccable.
The happiness and levity Luca had allowed himself evaporated instantly. His shoulders squared. His face hardened. The man who laughed with a drunk woman vanished, replaced by the one who ruled by consequence. As Julian stepped out of the car, Luca welcomed the darkness back.
Playtime was over.
Marco stepped out of the car. His wrists were bound in front of him. Blood had dried along his knuckles, his shirt torn at the shoulder, but he walked upright anyway, chin lifted, spine straight.
Luca raised two fingers subtly and his men moved at once. They took Marco from Julian’s custody. Marco’s gaze flicked to Luca for half a second in acknowledgment, acceptance.
"Interesting turn of events," Julian said, amusement dripping from every syllable as he stepped closer. "Your most loyal dog turns for a pussy."

He didn’t have answers. Only consequences waiting to be handed out.
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