Page 32 of Lucky
“We’ll do dinner,” Scar says. “You can meet Scarlett and you can talk Allegra into leaving the city.”
Dante gives a short nod before he turns to Caleph, who moves forward until he’s standing beside his long time friend.
“Tell us about this Vicci problem,” Caleph says, swinging his brown eyes my way. “I hear you’re the one who had the run in with her?”
“I don’t think she’s the problem,” I start. “I think it’s the fact that her family is falling apart and she has infidels running circles around her.”
“Dissension?”
I nod, keeping my tone measured. “She’s ruthless, but the men are salivating over leadership.”
Dante leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully. “Who appointed her?”
To this, I shrug, my expression neutral. The truth is, I don’t know how it happened. I can only recount what I’ve pieced together from the whispers and reports. “Apparently, there was a shooting a few months ago, and Jack Vicci was the target. He survived but was gravely injured. He’s confined to a wheelchairnow, effectively sidelined. His sister, Jacklyn, stepped up to take over, but apparently, she hasn’t been well-received. Her vision doesn’t align with that of her men.
Dante’s gaze sharpens at my words, and I don’t miss the look that passes between him and Caleph. It’s subtle but telling—a shared understanding or concern that neither bothers to articulate.
“You mean, the men don’t want to take orders from a woman,” he clarifies the meaning hidden in my words. He works his jaw, obviously incensed by this.
Standing against the wall, The Jekyll shifts his weight, peeling himself from the shadows to join the conversation more directly. He steps up beside Dante and Caleph, a silent but deliberate act of unity.
He’s the same as I remember—bald, with an intimidating presence that seems to fill the room. I recall the last time I saw him; he had joked about letting his hair grow out. Clearly, that plan didn’t last.
“Very ballsy of her,” The Jekyll remarks, his voice low but cutting. His eyes narrow with calculated judgment. “Especially since she doesn’t have the backing of a strong male presence. They’ll tear her to pieces before they let her lead.”
I keep my face impassive. “I can’t speak to that,” I reply evenly, “but I did watch her execute two of her own men. If that helps paint the picture.”
Their reaction is immediate and unguarded. Dante’s eyebrows rise slightly—a rare display of surprise—and even Caleph tilts his head as if considering something. The Jekyll mutters a low whistle, crossing his arms as he exchanges a glance with Dante.
“Well,” The Jekyll says with a faint smirk. “She’s got guts. I’ll give her that.”
“She’s dangerous,” Dante counters sharply. “Reckless, maybe even desperate. That kind of volatility can’t be ignored.” He turns his gaze back to me, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Set up a meeting. We need to meet with her as soon as possible.”
“I don’t know that that’s going to happen,” I admit cautiously. Jacklyn Vicci isn’t exactly welcoming outsiders these days, especially ones who might question her authority.
Dante’s voice hardens, a quiet force that carries more weight than any shout.“Make it happen.”
Before I can respond, Caleph clears his throat, stepping forward. “Some of the families have reached out,” he says, his voice calm but insistent. “They’re worried this situation with the Viccis is going to affect them all—financially, politically, and otherwise. We need to set up a meeting with them as well. Hear their grievances before this gets further out of hand.”
I nod, already anticipating this turn. The grumblings from the families have been growing louder in recent weeks, and it is one of the reasons we’d called Seattle in the first place. Decisions like removing a leader or intervening in family affairs aren’t taken lightly, and they certainly aren’t made in isolation. Even though our operation is arguably the strongest of the five major players in the city, there are rules—unwritten but ironclad—that govern everything we do. And one of those rules is accountability to Seattle.
Dante nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “We’ll need their input, but let’s not forget why we’re here. The Vicci family is spiraling. If Jacklyn Vicci can’t take control of the wheel, someone else will have to. But first, we see where she stands.”
“Agreed,” Caleph says. “But she’s already on the brink of chaos. This city won’t survive a power vacuum if she fails.”
The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of the situation settling heavily over us all. This isn’t just about JacklynVicci anymore. Her struggles are the tip of the iceberg. The cracks in her leadership threaten to destabilize not only her family but the delicate balance of power across the city. And if Seattle has to step in, it won’t be pretty.
I glance at Dante, his face an inscrutable mask, and then at The Jekyll, who looks like he’s already strategizing five steps ahead. As for Caleph, his calm demeanor hides the ruthless precision that I know lies beneath.
“Understood,” I say finally. “I’ll make the calls.”
Dante’s gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before he nods. “Good. Let’s not waste time. This needs to be handled before it spirals any further. If Jacklyn Vicci can’t prove herself in that meeting, we’ll have to decide what comes next.”
I don’t need him to elaborate. What comes next is blood.
17
DANTE