Luca

14 - Loyalty or cruelty?

Sofia

“Three sugars,” I mutter, swirling the espresso until the grains vanish. I never liked coffee, so I drowned it in sweetness, trying to mask the taste. My hands shake—not from caffeine, but because Dray Vidal’s shadow slices across the kitchen tiles, sharp as a knife.

I never expected him to walk in while I was here. I thought he’d be gone, busy with whatever business keeps him out so late.

Marnie and Draven accompanied Amber to her hospital appointment. Lorna is shopping with Olga. They are preparing a special dinner tonight, although Lorna is not required to help. Marnie told her she was not expected to work, but Lorna said she was friends with Olga and didn’t mind helping. They often laugh together and genuinely enjoy each other’s company.

Who am I to begrudge Lorna a new friend?

They went shopping together like they had been friends for a long time. Lorna asked me to come with them, but I said no. I have important things to read. Marnie gave me information about the Vidal family that I need to look over before tomorrow. I cannot risk being unprepared; I need to show that I am right for Luca.

Luca left early for work this morning. We shared breakfast, which I enjoyed. His demeanor always brings a smile to my face. He tucked my hair behind my ear and asked me to take care while he was away. He assured me that if I need him, I can text and he will call as soon as possible. That made me happy.

Luca said he’d stay, but duty called. I told him not to worry about me. There are bodyguards outside, watching my every move, and cameras in every corner. If I so much as step out of line, the Don will know. My father wants me to snoop, but I won’t—not even if he threatens me. I’m not that foolish.

Why am I unwilling to assist my father?

Because I like the Vidal’s, apart from Dray, and I don't want to marry Luca, knowing that I’ve betrayed him. I do not want to be collateral damage for a man who doesn’t care about me. The Vidal’s will be my family once I become one of them, and my loyalty has to be to my husband.

Luca informed me that he would return by four. He asked me to dress formally because he is taking me on a date. He did not disclose the destination, but assured me that I would enjoy it.

I am so excited!

I’ve never been on a real date before, for obvious reasons. This will be my first, and I can’t help but look forward to it.

Half an hour ago, I was surprised when my older brother came into the house. I hugged him right away and cried, since it had been months since we last saw each other. Papa knows how much Marchello means to me. Besides Lorna, my brother is the only person who has ever really cared about me. I hardly see Marchello these days because he’s always busy with whatever Papa has him doing.

I could hardly believe it—my brother, here of all places. Marchello explained that Luca had reached out, letting him know where I was. If he could slip away from Papa, Luca said, he could visit me for a few precious hours.

That small kindness filled me with happiness. Luca had no idea how much I needed this, but he reached out to my brother anyway. Marchello shouldn’t be here—Papa would be livid if he found out. But Luca made it happen, just for me. In that moment, I knew marrying him was the right choice.

“You make shi.t coffee,” Dray says, leaning against the marble counter. He isn’t even looking at me, just spinning a silver lighter between his fingers. The flick-click sound fills the silence between us.

I hate being alone with this man. He scares me something awful. I’ve been around dangerous men plenty of times, but Dray Vidal is by far the worst of them all.

I force down a sip, bitterness scraping my tongue. “Luca likes it strong.” The lie burns worse than the coffee.

Dray’s grin is slow, dangerous. “Funny. He never mentioned that.” The lighter snaps shut. “Get your coat.”

Marchello’s voice cuts in from the doorway, hesitant. “Dray, come on. She doesn’t—"

“Did I ask you?” Dray didn’t raise his voice, but Marchello’s jaw clicks shut.

My brother’s knuckles turn white as he grips the doorframe. I know that look: helplessness and guilt. He’s worn it since we were kids.

I set the cup down too hard, the porcelain clattering. “Where are we going?” I hope my voice sounded stronger than I feel. I do not want to go anywhere with this man because I sense what is about to happen. I cannot explain how I know, but it is an instinctive feeling.

Dray’s fingers close around my wrist, cold like a handcuff. “Less talking,” he says, pulling me toward the hall. I have no choice but to follow. He doesn’t give me a chance to protest. “More walking.”

What the hell is he going to do to me?

Why didn’t I grab my phone and send a message to Luca?

Antonio waits by the car, arms crossed. He won’t look at me when Dray pushes me into the backseat. The engine starts, drowning out Marchello’s muffled protest as the door slams. My brother gets in beside me, puts his arm around my shoulders, and kisses my head. He pulls away when Dray growls at him.

I am not even allowed that small measure of comfort.

I count streetlights through the tinted window. Twelve before Dray speaks again. “You ever shot a gun, principessa?”

The leather seat creaks as I stiffen. “No.”

Dray laughs, low and mean. “Today’s your lucky day.”

What the hell does that mean?

I’m not going to lie, I am terrified right now.

The car veers onto an unmarked road, gravel spitting beneath the tires. My ribs slam into the door as we screech to a halt outside a rusted warehouse. Antonio yanks me out before I can catch my breath, his grip cold and impersonal, as if I’m nothing but freight.

I don’t get how he can treat me this way. Marchello told me this morning that he and Antonio are in a relationship and love each other. That surprised me because I couldn’t understand how Marchello could be with someone who works for Don Vidal.

What would happen if Papa ever found out?

Marchello just laughed and said he’s smarter than Papa thinks.

Regardless of Antonio’s relationship with my brother, work comes first. His loyalty is to the Don and always will be.

Inside, the warehouse reeks of oil and metal. My shoes cling to the concrete—maybe it’s just grime, or maybe it’s dried blood.

Oh, God. Is this where they bring people to kill them?

Torture them?

Put them through loyalty tests?

That’s what I’m here for. I know it without even asking.

Dray drags a chair across the floor, the screech making my teeth ache. “Sit.”

When I don’t move fast enough, Antonio shoves me down. Marchello hovers near the entrance, his breathing uneven. My brother doesn’t want this to happen to me. He’s always tried to protect me from everything he could. But he can’t protect me this time. There is no reasoning with a man like Dray Vidal. That monster is going to force my big brother to watch as he tortures me.

Dray crouches in front of me, pressing the barrel of a pistol to my knee. It’s painful, but I try not to make a sound.

“Who tipped off your father about the shipment being stopped last month?”

What the fuc.k is he talking about?

What shipment?

“I don’t know anything about my father’s business.”

I don’t. Papa never tells me anything.

Why would he?

He hates the sight of me. Telling me anything would mean he’s about to kill me.

Dray smirks at me. “Who tipped him off?”

My pulse hammers in my throat. “I don’t—"

The gun jerks up, grazing my chin. “Wrong answer.” His thumb c***s the hammer. “Tell me,” Dray murmurs. “Would Luca cry at your funeral?”

Of course, he wouldn’t. Luca doesn’t know me well enough to cry for me.

Does Luca even know that I’m here?

Did the man I’m supposed to marry order this to happen to me?

No, I won’t believe it. Don Vidal, however…

My vision swims. Marchello’s panic crackles in the air between us. He wants to help, but he can’t. If he tries, Dray will kill him, and if I lose Marchello, I’d have nothing left.

“I swear, I don’t know anything!” I yell. “My father wouldn’t tell me anything about his business. He hates me, or haven’t you worked that out yet?”

Dray smirks, gets to his feet, and tucks his gun away. He grabs a box and a chair and sits down.

He takes a deck of cards from his pocket.

What the…?

“Pick a card,” Dray says, fanning them out between his fingers with a magician’s practiced ease. His knuckles are bruised—not from cards. It looks like he’s beaten someone recently.

I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the queen of hearts before snatching the two of spades instead.

Dray smiles, slow and jagged. “Bad choice.”

The basement isn’t cold, but I shiver anyway. Concrete floor, flickering bulb overhead, the scent of mildew clinging to the air. Nothing like the Vidal’s living room with its silk curtains and champagne flutes.

Dray flips the queen of hearts face-up on the crate between us. “You should’ve taken this one.” His voice is conversational, like we’re discussing the weather. “Luca likes queens. Loyal ones.” He leans forward, the chair creaking under his weight. “Let’s see if you can swim like one.”

Before I can blink, his hand is in my hair, yanking me backward off the stool. My knees hit concrete, pain shooting up my thighs as he drags me toward the rusted barrel in the corner. Water sloshes over the edges, soaking the hem of my dress.

“Please, don’t!” I scream. “Please, Dray!”

Dray doesn’t wait. He shoves my face into the water.