LUCA'S POV
"She's pretty, son. What do you think?" My uncle's voice sounded enigmatic as he spoke, staring in Martha's direction. His eyes were hooded.
"Uncle, you know I don't care. I just want to be made the head of the clan, and she can go to hades," I interjected. Knowing my uncle, I could tell there was meaning behind his words. "I can't get attached. So much is at stake."
He nodded sharply, turning in my direction. "The Russians are here. I hear Ivanov is about to strike an alliance with the Pushers." His drink swirled in his cup, and she moved his hand in a circular fashion. "Diego was quite brutal in his revenge the other day. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was impulsive. Ivanov will definitely be out for revenge. I think you should keep your eyes on your fiancée, son."
I nodded repeatedly at his words. After the Russians had delayed our shipments, Diego had dealt with them, sending the bodies of over ten men back to Ivanov as a revenge gift. I'd give him some credit for his thoughts, but I'd definitely have done a lot more damage if I had handled it.
"Martha can't do anything, tio," I objected. "I have her under my wing, and my eyes are on her. If she as much as tries to betray me, she's dead meat. She knows that too well."
Uncle Mateo's lip curled in a small, almost invisible, smirk. "Time will tell, son."
"Diego is headed in our direction," Diego stated, his face hardening in annoyance.
I could already sense the negative energy behind me, but I remained calm, betraying no emotion. Uncle Mateo smirked, saying nothing. The fat toe came around our table, wearing a grin that felt out of place.
"The Castillo's," he smirked, his eyes glinting with something mischievous. "How pleased I am to see the target of my bullet in person."
My face eased into a smirk. He knew his wishes would remain an impossible dream. Many like him had tried to take me down and failed. "We've met a few times before, Ivanov, and every time we did, you remain a delusional mongrel."
I watched his smirk fall slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "We'll see who'll be at the end of that table in a matter of time," he chipped in.
"We both know you're not her for pleasantries, so get it over with. What do you want?" Diego snapped, his tone icy and his voice stern.
Ivanov glared at him but said nothing for a short moment. He turned back to me. "I must admit that you have eyes for good things, Luca. That chick is hot."
My eyes shot up, and I found no reason to smirk at the son of a gun in front of me. "What did you just say?"
His eye darted back to Martha, where she was seated, looking clueless among the sea of fellow devils clad in suits.
His smirk deepened, making me want to punch his face until it became distorted. "You know, she's one in a million. I mean, a body like that would leave any sensible guy having vivid dreams. Those curves and that pretty face.. It's something of a world of art–"
"If you don't shut the hell up, I'll make you, and trust me, it'll be for life!" My voice was do cold that I could barely recognise it. All I wanted to do was to do such gruesome things to him.
My eyes darted to where Martha was, and I found myself paying even more attention to her. She rose from her seat and began to walk in the direction of the door. My eyes narrowed as I watched her leave. Seeing Hugo just behind her gave me little relief.
"You know, my godfather would love a young chick like her to warm his blood," he smirked.
I relaxed in my seat, noting what he was doing. He was baiting me. "Well, your godfather would have to die if he tries to touch what belongs to me," I spoke in a deadly calm, though I was anything but calm internally.
He shrugged. "We'll see. In the meantime, the shipments will be a minor supplement."
Diego rushed in from wherever he had disappeared to suddenly, his body tense and his face apprehensive as he glared at Ivanov.
"Este hijo de perra ha manipulado nuestros envíos nuevamente," he spat. (This son of a gun has tampered with our shipments again.)
My pulse raced in anger. The temptation to snap the neck of the bastard was great, but my patience was greater. Revenge, they say, is best served cold again.
Ivanov wore a smirk as he raised his glass of wine in mockery, turning to leave.
Diego was not having it. In a split second, his gun was facing Ivanov, his finger lingering on the trigger. The attention of everyone turned to the scene. Annoyance simmered just beneath my skin. Ivanov was playing at making us appear like fools.
"I see you haven't learned your lesson from the feedback I gave you, sucker!" He snapped, the tempo of his voice raising.
Ivanov raised his hands, his face easing into a grin. "Kill me, and you'll have all of Russia to deal with." His tone was mocking.
Diego's frown suddenly eased into a small smirk. "Really? Do you think I'll give you an easy death by killing you with one bullet?" He snapped. Shaking his head, he smirked. "I have a better option."
In a split second, he turned the gun in another direction and pulled the trigger. A Russian seated at Ivanov's table collided to the ground, bloody and dead.
Ivanov's eyes widened. His bodyguard and chief soldier were dead.
Time paused for one second. The next thing we heard, bullets were flying around, and the party was in disarray.
My uncle gave me a knowing look before grabbing a gun from his belt and taking out two other Russians.
I had only one thing in mind. Martha. I had not yet been crowned the don of the clan, so I still needed her alive.
I grabbed my gun from my belt, shooting the Russian assailant who appeared in front of me. They were appearing from all corners of the hall.
My finger remained glued to my trigger, firing at any obstacle in front of me as I headed to the direction of the restroom where she had gone.
Hugo was in combat with a Russian, beating him to a pulp when I got to the restroom. My jaw ticked when I realised that the entrance to the restroom was unguarded.
A curse escaped my lips as I burst in to find the restroom empty. There was no sign of Martha.
Where was she?