Undressed By The Mafia God-Chapter 152: Bianca Just Shot Veronica

Marco walked slightly ahead, guiding Don Genovese through the halls of Commissioned. The bar buzzed with the usual rhythm of evening service.

It had been a while since the older Genovese had stepped inside the place.

The staff had noticed immediately when he arrived.

Since Luca wasn’t around, the responsibility of hosting him had fallen to Marco.

"So Luca didn’t tell you where he was going and when he would be back?" Don asked.

"No sir." Marco answered respectfully.

Behind them, Julian followed a few steps back, his hands in his pockets as he listened to the conversation with mild interest.

Don Genovese stopped walking briefly, glancing around. "Did he go with his ring?" he asked.

Marco shook his head. "No. He told me he left it behind. He didn’t want to be tracked."

Don Genovese’s eyes narrowed slightly.

That detail clearly didn’t sit well with him.

"He assured me he wasn’t doing anything dangerous," Marco added quickly.

Luciano Genovese disappearing without his ring meant only one thing. He wanted privacy.

"Idiot went to see his mother." Don said flatly.

"How would you know that?" Julian asked.

Don Genovese didn’t even look at him at first. Instead, he stood at the glass partition of the platinum section, his large hand resting against the railing as he stared down at the dance floor below.

The music pulsed through the club in deep, rhythmic waves. Colored lights slid over the bodies moving beneath them, laughter and drunken energy rising from the crowd. From up here, the chaos looked controlled—contained behind glass.

"He doesn’t want me to find her," Don continued calmly. "But I know where she is."

Julian said nothing to that.

The private booths behind them were already filled with the type of clientele that kept Commissioned thriving.

"Any raids lately?" he asked.

Marco straightened slightly beside him. "No sir." He gestured toward the floor below with a faint smile. "The cops have done well to stay away from Commissioned. Our clientele can be frightening."

Don raised an eyebrow slightly.

"We have judges, politicians... even the richest man in New York is a platinum member and his wife," Marco continued proudly. "People who come here don’t want headlines."

"Luca has kept this front quite steady," Don said after a moment. He turned toward them now, nodding slightly. "Amazing job guys."

Then the older man shifted his gaze toward Julian.

"Take me to his office."

Julian nodded. "Of course."

He turned toward the hallway that led deeper into the club.

But before they could take more than a few steps, Marco’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

He slipped the device out quickly, glancing down at the screen. His brows furrowed immediately. "Nonnina?" he said as soon as he picked up.

Only one person would ever call him from the home phone.

Don Genovese’s eyes flicked toward Marco slowly.

Julian stopped walking.

As Nonnina spoke, colour drained from Marco’s face.

"I’ll be right there." He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t even wait for a response before pulling the phone away from his ear.

"Whats wrong with Nonnina?" Don asked.

Marco looked at him, his face pale now. "Mrs Genovese just shot Luca’s guest." Marco said. "I have to go!"

Then he turned and ran.

Julian stopped walking immediately.

A tight feeling gripped his chest.

Don Genovese, however, seemed far less concerned. He glanced at Julian and noticed the tension that had suddenly crept into his posture. "Whats got you all worked up?" he asked casually.

They continued walking slowly toward the more secluded wing of Commissioned where Luca’s private office was located.

"She didn’t shoot you," Don added dryly. "Although I think you might like it if she did."

Julian ignored the jab. His thoughts were moving too fast. "It’s a wrong move," he said. "A move that could make Luca lose his shit!"

They turned a corner into a quieter hallway where the noise from the club was reduced to a distant vibration in the walls.

"You haven’t seen the way he is around this woman." Julian added.

Don waved a dismissive hand. "The matter is between two women," he said. "They are just having a squabble. I’m sure Bianca wouldn’t shoot her somewhere that is life threatening."

Julian stopped walking. His father took another step before noticing. "Father, you don’t understand," Julian said, frustration creeping into his voice. "Luca—"

"Enough!" Don Genovese turned to face him fully now, his patience clearly thinning. "Focus on getting your own wife," he continued sharply, "and leave your brother to worry on his. Whatever triangle your brother generated himself," Don went on, his eyes hard now, "I am sure he can get himself out of it."

Julian clenched his jaw.

Because the problem wasn’t the triangle.

The problem was Luca.

Julian had watched his brother carefully over the past months.

It wasn’t the behavior of a man playing with a mistress.

It was the behavior of a man falling.

"It is none of your fucking business, Julian," Don finished firmly. He turned again and continued. "Now take me to Luciano’s office!"

Julian followed behind him silently.

But the unease in his chest refused to fade.

*****

Nonnina waited just outside the front door for Marco to arrive.

No one was allowed anywhere near the annex. The guards had been ordered back to their posts, the staff instructed to pretend the night was proceeding normally.

As if a woman wasn’t bleeding out in the small building across the courtyard.

Poor Zuccherino.

Nonnina’s fingers tightened around the rosary hanging between them. The beads clicked softly as she whispered silent prayers under her breath.

She had known Veronica long enough to see the softness behind the stubbornness. The girl had never asked for any of this. She had simply fallen into Luca’s orbit, and once that happened there was no escaping the gravity of his world.

Headlights suddenly flared beyond the gate.

A car horn blared.

The guards at the gate moved quickly, swinging the heavy iron doors open.

Marco’s car shot through.

The tires screeched as he swerved into the driveway, barely bothering to straighten the vehicle before the engine even finished dying.

(Brought to you by Jennifer Willard)