Page 13 of Lucky

“Reckless,” he mutters under his breath.

“Relax, Marco,” I say, my voice softening, though my patience is wearing thin. “I’ve handled worse men than Lucky Gatti. You know that.”

He doesn’t answer, but his silence is thick with disapproval.

I press my fingers to my temple, closing my eyes. I don’t need this right now—the judgment, the lecture, the constant reminder that every choice I make is scrutinized.

But as much as Marco’s anger grates on me, I know it comes from a place of loyalty, even love, in his gruff, exasperated way.

“I’m not asking you to like my choices,” I say finally, my tone softer. “I’m asking you to respect that they’re mine to make.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. The rest of the ride is silent, save for the low hum of the engine.

I lean my head against the window, the cool glass a welcome relief against my flushed skin. My body is still humming with the aftermath of Lucky’s touch, a heat that lingers in my core.

I don’t regret what happened tonight—not one bit. But I can already feel the ripple effects stirring, the delicate balance I’ve worked so hard to maintain shifting under my feet.

And as much as I’d like to believe I’m in control, Marco’s words linger in my mind, planting a seed of doubt I can’t quite shake. For the first time, I wonder if the control I cling to so tightly is nothing more than a figment of my own imagination.

7

LUCKY

I’ll never look at my office the same way again. Her scent lingers in the air, refusing to leave me, assaulting my senses, and instinctively I know I’ll never again smell patchouli or orange blossom and not think of her. I ask housekeeping not to clean my office until further notice. I inhale deeply every time I step into the space, the scent of sex and flowers wrapping around me like a comfortable blanket that I never want to let go of.

I’ve come to the club every night for three nights after I had Jacklyn Vicci against the wall, on my couch, on my desk. If I’d had my way, I would have continued to fuck her well into the night, but once she took control of the night, it was game over and I had to concede defeat when she told me in her own unshakably controlled way that it was time for her to go. I’d watched her leave with a realization that it was the first time in my life I’d actually felt like I wanted a woman to stay.

I’ve never given much thought to being in a relationship. My mother, vile woman that she was, really did a number on my father, God rest his soul, and by extension, on us Gatti boys. In my mind, I imagine myself getting past her traitorous waysand finding someone, maybe settling down someday and having a kid or two. But the reality is different. I can lecture everyone about happy ever afters and taking a chance, but when it comes to myself, I can’t see past my own demons to want to see a girl again. It’s true, I’ve never been in a relationship. In all my twenty four years, I’ve never so much as come close towantingto see a woman on a more than casual basis. But Jacklyn Vicci has turned that desire on its head; I may not admit it, but the fact that I’m still thinking about her three days later tells me that I’m more than hung up on her.

I want to see her again.

I want to fuck her again.

Then I want to rinse and repeat, over and over again.

I think maybe tonight’s the night. If she doesn’t come in, I’m going to call her. It’ll be a first for me, but I think I’m ready to take the plunge. I’m ready to take a chance on someone who could possibly be a keeper.

I walk through the club, my sanctuary, a haven from the brutality and chaos that plagues the city outside. It also serves as a paradise for many who frequent it. It is the one place where order is maintained, where the elite of the underworld gather to drink, network, and let their guard down ever so slightly. Membership to this exclusive establishment is by invitation only, and there is one distinct rule by which patrons must abide; no violence within these walls under any circumstances. That law is so binding that it’s punishable by death; people know well enough not to break it and risk the consequences.

When we built this club on the remains of an ancient temple, we considered it sacred ground. We did not allow anyone to think otherwise, and we still don’t. Our club is our temple, our nirvana.

Yet tonight, I feel a shift in the atmosphere. The air hangs heavy with fatigue, carrying an unspoken fury that travelsthrough the surroundings. It's as if a taut tension is unravelling and the world holds its breath, anticipating the imminent ignition of a fiery spark.

And then it happens. The first punch lands...to my soul.

Amidst the sounds of clinking glasses and murmured conversations, I hear a loud thud followed by shouting and crashing furniture. My stomach tightens as I turn to see a large man swinging wildly at someone sitting at the bar.

"Rafi," I whisper, knowing he will already be moving into position to handle the situation, as he always does. This is our club, and we will not let anyone destroy what we’ve built.

As I push through the crowd towards the commotion, two more men enter and start attacking other patrons. It's clear they have little or no respect for our rules.

I see people heading for the exit in an attempt to escape the violence. This is not what they signed up for. And I know that it will take a lot to recover from this. It took me two years to build this club and establish its reputation as a safe haven for the underworld, and it's all at risk now.

I soon realize that this isn’t just a brawl at a bar. This is something more. These guys are out of their depth and don't know who they're messing with. Either that, or they simply don’t care. And now these punks think they can come in here and destroy everything I've built? Not on my watch. Not even close.

A primal scream escapes me as I charge headfirst into the fray; I don't want any bloodshed on my property, but I won't let these hoodlums get away with the damage they're causing.

It’s too late to warn Rafi before a fist collides with his jaw. The impact is loud, a crack that silences the room for a split second before chaos erupts.