Undressed By The Maf Chapter 94: Just Trust Me

Chapter 94: Just Trust

She frowned. "Haven’t they? You were an to

in the beginning."

He tilted his head slightly. "Was I?"

Frustration flared. "Will you stop with the two word questions? Just trust , please. I can handle myself."

"Fine. Is that all?" he asked, reclaiming her ankle.

"No."

"Godfucking damnit," he muttered under his breath. "What is it this ti?"

The irritation was theatrical, but the undercurrent was real. She had been steering him all night. Pulling him toward heat, then shifting the subject. Asking for trust. ntioning Cassidy. Wanting freedom.

"Goodnight," she said lightly.

Before he could respond, she slipped her legs from his hands and stood. The flip flops he had abandoned earlier still lay on the floor. She stepped around him slowly, her fingers trailing up the back of his neck, brushing the short hair at his nape, grazing the sensitive place just below his ear.

He exhaled sharply as she slipped her shoes on and walked away, her hips swaying just enough to remind him of what he was not getting.

"Fucking tease..." Luca murmured.

Her laughter followed her.

He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand down his face.

And then, against his will, he smiled.

Stupidly.

"What the fuck is this woman doing to ?" he muttered to himself.

******

The next morning, Vee sat in the passenger seat wearing high waisted jeans and her Scalese pizza tshirt tucked neatly at her waist. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. The bruise on her cheek had faded further.

They moved through the early morning traffic.

"Can you stop in front of that bodega?"

He glanced at her briefly before signaling and pulling over. The storefront was small, paint peeling slightly around the edges, crates of fruit stacked out front. A faded awning flapped in the mild breeze.

"You want sothing?" he asked.

"Yeah. The shop owner supplies

so ingredients. I just need to confirm when the next delivery will arrive. I’ll only be a minute."

He put the car in park and watched her step out. She adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked toward the entrance.

Luca’s gaze lingered. Then he scanned the street automatically. Two n arguing near a bus stop. An elderly woman carrying groceries. A teenager on a bike.

His phone rang just then, vibrating against the dashboard where it was mounted.

He glanced down.

His wife’s na flashed across the screen.

Video call request.

"Shit," he muttered.

The timing could not have been worse.

He hesitated for half a second before answering. The screen lit up, reflecting his face back at him before shifting to hers.

He adjusted the cara angle subtly.

"Buongiorno," he said smoothly.

He kept one eye on the call.

One eye on the door.

"Hey, love." Bianca’s face filled the screen. Her dark hair fell in glossy waves over one shoulder, her lips painted a precise shade of crimson that matched the silk robe draped carelessly around her. Behind her, Luca caught the edge of a marble fireplace, a gilded mirror, the luxury of the ho his father had in Italy.

"Bianca. How are you doing?" he replied automatically. But his eyes were not on her.

"I’m good," Bianca said. "I just needed to see if you are okay."

Concern. Or surveillance.

"Why wouldn’t I be?" Luca asked.

Across the road, five n stood clustered near a lamppost. One leaned against a parked car, arms folded, eyes fixed on the storefront Vee had just entered.

Another man gestured subtly in that direction.

"Well," Bianca continued, her fingers brushing her hair back, "Julian ca for a visit. He said all these things about Marco. And so girl." Her gaze sharpened through the screen. "He said you almost stabbed him over her."

Outside, the man by the lamppost shifted his weight and pointed again toward the shop window.

Luca’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Your father is angry," Bianca went on. "And then I tried to call you about two weeks ago. Marco picked up the phone." Her brow arched delicately. "Shouldn’t he be dead for betraying you?"

"Julian is an idiot," Luca said flatly.

His eyes flicked back to the n.

"And however I choose to handle my people and my business is not your concern. Or Father’s."

"Actually, Luca it is. I am your wife. I worry about you. You know how your father can be. Are you even listening to , Luca?"

Luca dragged his gaze from the bodega door back to the phone. "You know what? Hang on a minute."

He did not wait for her response.

He stepped out, slamming the door harder than necessary. His shoes struck the pavent with purpose as he crossed the short distance to the shop, his hand on the gun on his waistband.

The bell above the bodega door rang as he pushed it open.

Inside, the space was narrow, shelves stacked high with imported sauces, sacks of rice, spices in clear containers. A small radio behind the counter murmured in Mandarin.

Vee stood at the register, her back partially turned to him.

"I’m sorry," she said when she noticed him. "One second."

She turned back to the man behind the counter.

"I just need a couple more boxes. The last one is almost finished. We had a busy day yesterday."

"Yeah, I heard. Good for you," Mr. Lee replied in his thick accent, nodding as he scribbled into a ledger book.

Luca’s eyes swept the interior, he couldn’t help it. Front windows. Back exit. Two custors.

"Thank you, Mr. Lee. I’ll see you later."

Vee moved toward him.

Her plan was unfolding exactly as she had intended. She had needed Luca visible. Attached to her. And with Inferi watching from across the street, every second Luca stood beside her carved a ssage into stone.

When they stepped back outside, Inferi was still there, openly watching them now. His eyes locked onto Luca imdiately in recognition.

Vee slid her hand into Luca’s.

"I’m sorry I kept you waiting," she said gently.