13 - LUCA

"Now we're going to go back to the apartment, and pretend none of this ever happened," said Fizz seriously. "We've had enough drinks for one night, bro. I just wanna go home and sleep. Kick my legs up, watch a bit of telly. Eat some pizza."

"Yeah…" I murmured, not paying attention to what he was saying. "I'm just going to go to the toilets, bro. You wait in the car, I'll catch you up."

"Okay," Fizz shrugged, and he turned on his heel, walking out of the building.

As soon as Fizz was out of sight and ear-shot, I walked past the table that the woman was sitting at, with my phone positioned at a low angle…

And I carefully took pictures of all the fuckers who were sat there as I walked past.

Then I actually made my way to the toilets, in a bid to stop myself looking suspicious. I sorted my hair out, and straightened out my clothes…

Before I flicked through my phone, making sure that I hadn't missed a single person in these pictures.

"Perfect…" I murmured to myself.

I trailed off my sentence, my heart pounding against my chest.

I wasn't quite sure what I was doing.

I wasn't quite sure what my plans were.

All I knew…

Was that I needed to know more about this woman…

And more about the involvement she had with Marcello.

So that I could paint a better picture of what was going on, and get to the bottom of all of it.

I made my way out of the toilet, and noticed that everybody at the table was standing up now.

"Come on, la mia principessa araba," said Marcello to the lady. "Take my hand."

My Arabian princess.

Motherfucker.

Her eyes were tear-filled, as she shakily took his hand in hers. For a split-second, her eyes darted in my direction, and she held her gaze with mine for a few seconds.

As if she was telling me to save her.

Almost pleading.

She shot me a longing glance, as Marcello began forcing her out of the casino, making his way back to their car.

I made a mental note to remember the number plate of his car, needing all of the information I could get my hands on.

"Don't worry, baby girl, I'll save you…" I whispered to myself, as I watched them drive away. "I'll save you even if it's the last thing I do."

I wiped my forehead, that was glistening with sweat. Glistening because of all of these foreign emotions that were making their way to the surface.

Monsters like me weren't meant to feel anything, but for the second time in my life…

I found myself genuinely caring.

Showing genuine concern.

And I hadn't felt like this for a long time.

This was the second time…

Because the first time was when Massimo shot that Muslim family dead all those years ago.

I wasn't able to save the Muslim family…

But I would be able to save this woman before it was too late.

She was having a positive impact on me. I was sure that she would much rather be with me and marry me than that fucker Marcello.

Because before me, I saw a broken woman.

A shattered woman.

Just as shattered as I was.

I felt like I shared a connection with her.

Maybe she was the only woman who would be capable of fixing me.

When I wanted something, I stopped at nothing to get it.

Even if it meant breaking all of the Cosa Nostra rules.

Even if it meant there would be fucked-up repercussions.

Even if it meant I would have to put my life on the line.

Nothing in life worth having came easy.

The best things in life were worth fighting for.

Even if it meant going to war with…

The Camorra.