Page 20 of Lucky
“Why is that, brother?” Rafi asks, his voice stern as he turns toward me. “Since when do we tread carefully when someone shoots one of our own? She came to the club, remember? That was probably a fact finding expedition for her.” The reminder that she did a number on me then had her men attack my club grates on my mind, slicing through my veins like ice.
“She came to the club?” Brando’s head shoots in my direction.
“She did. And she left without incident.”
“Yet only days later, the club was attacked,” Scar reminds me.Like I need the fucking reminder.
Brando speaks up, reminding us that we don’t need another war, especially with everything else that’s going on. I can imagine he has his hands full trying to help Mia work through the trauma she endured at the hands of Frank Falcone.
“You all know the rules,” Scar says, taking command of the room as the leader in him rises to the surface. “That’s why no-one makes a move until we know more. Especially if there’s a woman involved.”
“What are the chances?” Rafi frowns and shakes his head in confusion. He rubs his temple, clearly agitated. “Are we supposed to just sit around on our hands while our guy bleeds out?”
“No,” Scar says, holding up a hand. “We wait for more intel. We can’t afford to make a wrong move, not now.” He turns to me, tells me to throw every resource we have behind the investigation into who’s running the Vicci family.
I watch my brothers—each of them a key piece in a complicated puzzle. Brando’s caution, Rafi’s aggression, and Scar’s iron resolve. Together, we all make the foundation of thefamily, but in moments like this, it’s hard to keep the balance when everyone is pulling in a different direction.
Just as the weight of silence starts to settle upon us, my phone buzzes, pulling my attention away. An unlisted number flashes on the screen. My gut tightens.
“Who is it?” Scar asks, when I continue to look at the screen, trying to decide whether or not I should answer. I shrug as the ringing stops, then look at it again as the same number calls a second time.
“Answer it.”
I answer without thinking, my voice low as I snap my greeting down the line, “Yes?”
“Luciano Gatti, you’re a hard man to find when you don’t want to be found.”
I lift my eyes to meet Scar’s, and I know the surprise on my face must be apparent, because he raises his eyebrows in question. I already know who it is; there’s no mistaking the richer than syrup cadence that belongs to Jacklyn Vicci. Plus, only she would have the balls to call me Luciano after I told her not to. We’re back to formalities. Up goes the wall again.
“Well, if I’d known you were looking for me, I would have made myself available,” I tell her. My brothers lean forward, all ears, mesmerized by the one-sided conversation now taking place in the room.
“I got your gift,” she says, and I can’t ignore the resentment that flows down the line. “You should know, I prefer my gifts wrapped. Preferably bloodless.”
“No-one challenges a Gatti and lives to tell the story, Jacklyn. You’d be wise to remember that.” Oh yeah, I can give as good as I get. There’s a long pause and I have to wonder if she’s still on the line, before she starts again.
“It’s unfortunate what happened with your soldier,” she says. My breath hitches as I realize she’s calling about what we’re meeting about.
“It is,” I tell her. “We don’t take too lightly to hoodlums trying to off one of ours.”
There’s another short silence on her end of the line, and when she speaks again, her tone is far more controlled than I expect. “I need a little time to get my men in line. But I guarantee you, the matter will be dealt with swiftly. I just need you to give me a little space to handle this myself.”
I feel the blood rush to my head, and my dick, but I keep my composure. That could mean any one of many things. I don’t give her any sign of the tension coiling inside me. I don’t for one second believe that she’s capable of bringing the situation under control, but I’d love to see her try.
“So, you’re telling me you want me to trust you to bring your own men to heel?” I ask her, my voice laced with disbelief. “After one or more of them shot one of mine?”
Her laugh is soft, almost mocking. “Neither of us wants a war,” she says, and I’m impressed that she understands our goals are aligned. And yet, I still don’t know who Jacklyn Vicci is. “You know the kind of mess this could turn into if we don’t handle it the right way, Luciano.”
I don’t answer right away. I let her words hang in the air between us, thick with implications.
“What guarantee do I have that this will be handled?” I ask, my voice cool. The question is to keep her talking, more than anything else.
“Watch this space,” she says, and the line goes dead before I can respond.
I glance back at my brothers, the weight of her words settling into the pit of my stomach. Scar's eyes are locked on me, sensing something has shifted.
I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "Jacklyn Vicci is requesting to mete out her own justice on the men who shot our guy," I say quietly, my gaze flicking to each of them in turn. “But I don’t necessarily trust her.”
Rafi’s expression doesn’t change. “You don’t trust a woman who goes by a man’s name? I can see how that can be perplexing.”