Page 65 of Lucian

Usually business was talked, issues noted, drinks were had, and so forth. It was, essentially, the mafia at its oldest form. For decades upon decades, this one event and the tradition it held in the Cosa Nostra never changed. Giving proper due to the boss.

Lucian was somewhere else entirely.

“Where in the fuck is Gio?” Antony asked from the other end of the booth.

Lucian shrugged, not caring. “Busy, maybe.”

“He doesn’t get to be busy today, Lucian.”

Dante shot his brother a pointed look mixed with concern. Maybe it was his blatant disregard for the men around him, or the conversations some tried to strike with him, but Lucian couldn’t do it.

“Have you made anymore decisions towards The Sons of Hell?” someone asked.

That perked Lucian up, briefly.

Antony said nothing right away, letting the question hang while everyone waited. “Their captains aren’t working with my capos, or paying for their place, at the very least. I’ve been told by a few people it’s a hostile environment trying to deal with them. Police and media attention is finally starting to wane from their direction after the mess with my casino.”

“That’s what you’ve been waiting for,” Lucian said, feeling ridiculous that he hadn’t realized it before.

His father repeatedly brushed off Lucian’s attempts to discuss what needed to be done about Will Vetta and his men. Mostly, he just wanted his retribution for what they had done to Jordyn. Plus, with Will gone, or at the very least, disabled to the point he didn’t have enough power to come back on Jordyn again, she would be safe.

Lucian scowled and tipped up his drink for a long, burning swig at the thought of her name alone. Clearly he still wasn’t over their earlier fight.

“Yes,” Antony confirmed. “I couldn’t very well send in any of my guys to make a point while attention was still hot and heavy on them.”

“Not anyone,” Lucian said, glancing over at his father. “It needs to be me.”

“It wouldn’t have looked good. Attention might have turned to us. That’s an issue we don’t need.”

“And now?” Lucian asked.

“Where is Gio?” Antony asked again, deflecting the question. “Mio Dio, Lucian. I swear I will shove my foot so far up his ass he’ll taste my boots for the next month if he shuns me today. I am not in the mood to deal with him acting like a fucking cafone.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Lucian snapped. “I’m not his babysitter.”

“But he is your younger brother.”

Lucian glared at his father. “And so is Dante, but no one needs to keep tabs on him.”

Frankly, Lucian had been far too busy with life, his work, and Jordyn to be running after Gio. At some point, it had to be a sink or swim situation. Gio would clean his act up and do what needed to be done, or he wouldn’t and he’d drown.

“That’s my job,” Antony replied. “Dante’s my underboss. I expect you to keep an eye out for Gio, just like you always have. Vaffanculo and go find out where your brother is.”

Lucian was aware all of the eyes in the room had turned to him. There was a line between respect and disrespect when it came to Antony being the boss and his father. He’d missed it completely and jumped right over it with a bang and a mighty fuck you.

“Sorry, Boss,” Lucian said quietly. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Do that. And quickly before what little patience I have for you runs out as well.”

Lucian climbed out of the booth and weaved around the men until he was at the back end of the club where there was privacy. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, Lucian quickly realized he hadn’t turned the ringer or vibrating back on the cell when he silenced it earlier. Just his home screen alone told him he’d missed several calls and texts from Gio, some that very morning when Lucian was arguing with Jordyn.

He cussed low, dialing Gio’s number. Gio picked up in two rings.

“Yeah, I know, I’m on my way. Tell him not to have a fit about it,” Gio ranted the moment he answered. “Today is not my day, man.”

Lucian sighed. “What the hell happened?”

“I left you a bunch of messages!”