Undressed By The Mafia God-Chapter 145: You Picked The Wrong House

But he couldn’t sit back and watch either.

His grip tightened slightly on the wheel.

If anything happened to Veronica, Valentina would break.

He had seen it too clearly in the past weeks—the way Valentina clung to her sister, the way Veronica’s happiness seemed to give her a kind of quiet peace. He had to do something.

But what?

Every option carried risk. Every path led into dangerous territory. Bianca wasn’t someone you could simply warn off or intimidate. She was married into one of the most powerful families in Italy. Her family weren’t any less frightening either.

*****

If his mother could have found the farthest place from the Genovese name, she would have taken it.

But it didn’t matter how far she went.

He still found her eventually, a few years after he took over the New York familia.

Singapore had been her refuge.

A city loud and alive enough to swallow old names and dangerous histories. The crowded streets, the endless lights, the mixture of languages and cultures—it was the kind of place where someone could disappear if they truly wanted to.

She had tried.

Luca remembered the first time he stood outside her small apartment building, staring up at the modest balcony with a strange tightness in his chest. For a moment he had felt like a boy again.

At first, she had been pleased to see him.

The shock had softened into a brief, fragile happiness when she opened the door and recognized him. For a moment she had pulled him into a hug like nothing had changed.

Like the years hadn’t passed.

But as soon as she heard he had followed in his father’s footsteps, everything changed.

The warmth disappeared from her face almost instantly.

She stepped back from him like he had suddenly become a stranger.

She had wanted nothing to do with him after that.

The disappointment in her voice had cut deeper than any insult ever could.

She had said she had higher hopes for him.

Luca remembered standing in her living room, hands in his pockets, listening to her speak about the life she had wanted for him.

A life far away from blood.

But that had never been an option.

The Genovese name didn’t release its sons so easily.

And now, he had returned but this time to seek her help. He needed to know how his father kept her safe while they were together.

She was the mistress. Julian’s mother was the wife.

History was repeating itself.

He didn’t like the comparison. His father had built his life around two women and Luca had always despised that. The way everyone had simply accepted it as part of the life.

Yet here he was.

A wife who belonged to his world and a woman he would burn the world down to protect.

It took about twenty four hours for him to arrive in Singapore and when he did, it was late in the midnight.

He knew the house well enough.

The neighborhood was quiet, lined with modest houses and small gardens.

Luca approached the door and studied the lock briefly.

Old habit.

It took him less than ten seconds.

He found his way into the house as quietly as he could, picking the lock.

The interior was simple.

It looked like the home of someone who had built a quiet life.

Luca moved toward the kitchen, suddenly aware of how dry his throat felt. The flight had been long, and he had barely slept. He needed a drink of water. He had just opened the fridge when he sensed her behind him. He pretended not to hear her move. He shut the fridge slowly, the cold bottle of water in his hand, and heard the click of the gun behind him.

"You picked the wrong house!" came her voice.

He took a small sip of water before responding. "Hello, mother." He said calmly, turning around with the bottle still in his hand. "It’s been a while."

She stood several feet away, the pistol raised and pointed directly at his chest.

She stared at him in shock, anger. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I just need you to answer a few questions and I will be out of your hair."

"Get the hell out of my house." She said.

"Mum...I need your help."

Carol lowered the gun then. "What the fuck makes you think I would want to help you? What do you need uhn? Need me to help you make someone disappear? Smuggle drugs? Establish your familia in Singapore? I’m not helping you."

Luca sighed under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. The jet lag, the tension, the twenty-four hours of flying with nothing but worry gnawing at his brain—it was all catching up with him. "I need you to tell me how dad protected you."

Carol laughed. "Protected me? That’s funny. The one I needed protection from was himself."

"And I gave that to you! It’s time to repay that debt."

Carol’s eyes flashed immediately. "You call saving your own mother a debt."

"A mother who wants nothing to do with me!" Luca snapped.

The anger came faster than he meant it to. Years of it lived just under his skin, waiting for the smallest crack to escape.

"Because you became the man I was running from in the first place."

Luca let out a slow breath through his nose, forcing his temper back down. He had not flown halfway across the world to argue about the past.

"Mother, I know you hate me. Trust me, I’d have never graced your door if I had any other choice. But please...please...I need your help."

This version of her son was unfamiliar. The Luca she remembered had always been proud, stubborn, dangerous even as a boy.

Slowly, she stepped forward and placed the gun on the kitchen counter.

"Whats going on?"

He took another sip of water, mostly to buy himself a second to organize his thoughts.

"I met a woman." He began.

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