Page 58 of Luca
I nodded, forwarding the footage. I doubted it would reveal anything useful, but Marko was the tech wizard, not me.
After that, we quickly went inside, I grabbed the mail, and we headed back to the Estate. I’d always loved my little cottage on the corner of town. It’s where I grew up with Mum, and later Gracie, filled with pictures and memories. It had always felt safe. But until the MP was out of the way, I wouldn’t be back. And when I finally returned, I’d get top-of-the-range security. It seemed that being a part of Luca’s life meant I’d need it.
Once, the thought of this would have filled me with dread and given me another reason to stay away. But now, it was just another hurdle because I’d realised something in the past fewweeks: Luca was the only man for me. No amount of moral dilemmas, threats, or danger would drive me away.
CHAPTER 32
LUCA
THAT EVENING – FRAMING THE MP
The derelict railway building loomed over us, a skeletal reminder of a past era, its broken windows gaping like missing teeth. Cold air whistled through the cracks, carrying the faint metallic tang of rust and the stale scent of old oil.
I was here only a week ago, making Joey McDougall talk and giving him a taste of my knife in revenge for Julie. Since then, we’d had our people watching him closely—he was crucial to the next part of our plan.
“You know what you have to do?” I checked. He nodded, and I yanked him up by the scruff of his neck.
“Don’t fuck this up, or I’ll fuck you up. Got it?”
“Yeah… yeah!” His frantic head bobbed in a rapid rhythm with his words, his body shaking with fear.
Joey was nothing more than a pawn, though he didn’t know it. I passed him his mobile.
“Call him and remember to stick to the script,” I warned, my voice dripping with menace. “And put it on speaker!”
“They’re here. I’ve got them,” he said.
I could hear the MP’s glee in his reply. “We’re on our way.” He hung up, and I smiled. He was coming just as we’d hoped.
We’d had Nigel Simpson contact the MP to inform him that the rumour was we’d found out about McDougall, and we were after him. As expected, the MP ensured the guy’s location was fed to us through an informant, unaware we already had him in our clutches. He then contacted McDougall, telling him to expect us and that he’d send a few guys over to help capture us. Once that was done, he would call the MP, who we anticipated would come himself to finish us off—an opportunity like that was just too good to waste.
The couple of guys he’d sent were already in our custody, leaving us with nothing to do but wait. I flexed my grip on the pistol I’d taken from one of them, the cool metal a steady reminder of what had to be done. The MP’s arrogance would be his undoing; he’d underestimated us at every turn, believing he could take on the Bratva without facing consequences. Tonight, we’d show him just how wrong he’d been.
Miki crouched beside me, his eyes scanning the entrance for any sign of movement. The lines on his face were sharper tonight, tension radiating from him. This was personal. The MP’s attacks had struck deeper than business; they were a direct hit at Miki’s pride, his control, and, of course, his sister. Taking the bastard down wasn’t just about securing our safety—it was about retribution.
“Think he’ll definitely show and not just send more of his men?” Ash asked, keeping his voice low. The only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the occasional drip of water from the crumbling ceiling.
Miki glanced our way, his expression unreadable. “He’ll show. Arrogant bastards like him always do. He can’t resist the chance to gloat. He thinks we’re already under his control; he has no idea he’s walking into his own trap.”
The plan hinged on the MP’s ego, on his need to see his enemies brought low before him. We’d spun a story he couldn’trefuse—Miki, and I, tied up and ready for him to exact his revenge. There was no way he’d miss out on that.
When he arrived, he’d enter the office where Joey had been hiding out, and we’d have him.
A flicker of headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the graffiti-covered walls. I tensed, pressing closer to the cold wood as three vehicles crawled up the gravel path—the MP’s convoy. I counted the men spilling out—six, maybe seven—moving with the cautious, alert manner of those who sensed danger but hadn’t yet pinpointed its source.
The MP stepped out last, dressed in his usual tailored suit, an outfit that looked utterly out of place in a dump like this. He adjusted his cufflinks, a small gesture of arrogance that made my blood boil.
He strode forward, eyes sweeping the area with disdain. Joey stood at the door of the office to meet him, just as planned.
“Where’s Luca? Where’s Miki?” The MP’s voice echoed through the quiet of the night, loud and impatient.
From our hidden spot, Miki nodded. The moment had arrived. We moved in unison, stepping out of the shadows with our guns raised, blocking any route of escape. The MP’s men reacted, hands twitching toward their weapons, but they hesitated, outnumbered and caught off guard. The element of surprise was ours, and we weren’t wasting it.
The MP’s eyes narrowed as he took us in. A smirk twisted his mouth, but the flicker of surprise couldn’t be hidden. “Well, well. Leon, or should I say Luca? Slumming it in the gutters with the rest of the Bratva, I see. Is this what you’ve been reduced to?” He laughed, still maintaining his air of superiority.
He tutted, shaking his head. “You should have stayed as Leon; he had a bright future with me. Now, Luca, you will be the first of the Bratva’s top circle to die.”
I ignored his attempt to bait me, my focus locked on him. He was here, in front of us, exposed. Every ounce of anger I’d bottled up over the months—every slight and underhanded move he’d made—surged to the surface. “This ends tonight,” I said, my voice steady but edged with the cold fury that came from months of planning, from waiting for this exact moment.