Chapter 7 - Behind the Armor
Ten minutes later, the restaurant had somehow resumed its murmur, though every customer in section four kept their eyes firmly fixed on their bread baskets.
Daniel Ross had retreated to the back office, clutching a bottle of scotch and praying for the night to end.
Maya stood by Luca’s table, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The adrenaline was still singing through her veins, a wild, electric current that wouldn't settle down.
“You just made a very powerful enemy for no reason,” Maya said, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “Julian’s dad is connected to half the city's zoning board.”
“Julian’s dad is a footnote,” Luca said smoothly, sitting back down in the booth as if nothing had happened. He gestured to the empty seat opposite him. “Sit down, Maya.”
“I’m on the clock.”
“Your shift ended five minutes ago. Sit.”
She hesitated, then slid into the opposite side of the booth, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. “Why are you doing this, Luca? Seriously. What do you want from me? Money? Silence? A personal punching bag for your ego?”
Luca picked up his wine glass, swirling the dark red liquid before setting it back down without drinking. For a long moment, he didn't speak. The harsh amber light carved deep shadows under his cheekbones, emphasizing the exhaustion that lay beneath his polished exterior.
“When I was twelve years old,” Luca began softly, his voice so quiet she had to lean in to hear it, “my father sat me in a car just like the one that splashed you. He told me that in this city, you either become the monster holding the leash, or you become the dog on the pavement.”
Maya looked at him, her defensive posture slowly melting away.
“He taught me how to survive,” Luca continued, his dark eyes fixed on the grain of the wooden table. “He taught me how to build walls out of money, fear, and silence. But he forgot to teach me how to stop living behind them.”
He looked up, meeting her gaze directly.
“When you stood in that rainstorm, soaked to the skin, holding a ruined bag of groceries, and told me I was expensive trash... for the first time in ten years, I wasn't Luca Moretti, the syndicate boss. I was just a jerk who ruined a stranger’s day. And I realized how much I missed being treated like a human being.”
Maya’s breath caught. The anger that had sustained her for the last forty-eight hours suddenly evaporated, leaving behind a strange, heavy warmth in her chest.
“You’re still a jerk,” she whispered, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward into a reluctant, fragile smile.
“A certified one,” Luca agreed, a genuine, rare smile breaking across his face, transforming his sharp features into something startlingly handsome. “Can I buy you dinner now? Properly? Without Julian Vance interrupting us?”
Maya looked at him—really looked at him—and realized that the most dangerous thing in Chicago wasn't the mafia boss sitting across from her.
May you like
It was the fact that she didn't want to run away anymore.
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