18. Luca

CHAPTER 18

LUCA

OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS – PRELIMINARY HEARING

A fter Claire had left, worry clawed at me for the rest of the day. Would she do what I asked and call Miki?

My sexy lawyer could be stubborn. She liked to act tough, but underneath she was a pussycat. No doubt she’d think she could protect herself, but she couldn’t take on our world alone. Like it or not, she needed protection.

I hated that I couldn’t protect her myself, but I would bloody well make sure Miki did. Of course, knowing my Little Miss Sexy Ass, she’d likely fight him on it all the way. A flash of warmth ran through me at the thought of her getting her claws out, and I smiled, but concern quickly wiped the smile off my face. Despite how tough my woman thought she was, she had to listen to Miki.

She would? Wouldn’t she? Not unless she believes she’s in real danger , the annoying little voice in the back of my head said.

Damn it! I needed to call Miki and make sure he knew she’d been threatened.

Before I could think about it, I found myself at the door to Sean’s room.

“Luca, everything okay?”

“You got a phone?” I asked, keeping my voice hushed as I entered his cell.

“Sure. What’s the problem?”

“My woman’s in danger and I need to make sure she’s being properly protected,” I replied.

He nodded and tossed a phone my way. “Have at it. You can keep it tonight, give me it back in the morning,” he said.

“Thanks.”

I returned to my room just in time for lockdown. As the door closed, shutting me in for the night, I was glad I had a cell to myself.

Settling into my bunk, I dialled Miki.

“Who the fuck’s this?” he asked, suspicious of the unknown number.

“It’s me. Borrowed the phone from an Irish guy. Sean O’Brien. Him and his cousin Finn have got my back in here. They moved from Ireland recently. Their dad wants to carve a niche in London and wants a chat. Apparently, Jim will vouch for them. You heard of them?”

“No, but Jim left a message saying he’d arranged protection for you and he’ll call me tomorrow, so I assume he’ll enlighten me then. I’d called him since we don’t have anyone inside and neither does Glowacki. I didn’t want you in there without backup,” he replied.

“Thanks. I knew you’d get something organised. Did Claire call you? She needs protecting. She’s being threatened by the judge who’ll be handling my case.”

“Yeah, she did. But there’s more,” he said, a grim edge in his tone. “Her car was vandalised in the prison parking lot.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What?! Is she okay?”

“Pissed off, but safe. I’ve got her staying here with us. However, she also received a threatening text telling her to back off, or she’d be next. Marko traced it back to a burner phone, so we’ve no idea who sent it.”

Guilt clawed at me. This was my fault.

“Make sure she stays away from the prison,” I urged, my voice tight. “I can’t trust her safety if she comes here before the pre-trial.”

“She’s safe at the Estate,” Miki assured me. “I’ve got Vlad assigned to her at all times and when he’s not there, Trigger, or one of us, will be. Got a couple of guys on Brad, too.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. The knowledge that she was under Miki’s protection kept me grounded. But my thoughts spiralled back to the threat looming over her.

“Good. Just make sure they stay discreet, she won’t like the fact she’s got bodyguards trailing her every move, no matter how much it’s for her own good. She’s likely to act up if they cause a scene or make themselves too obvious. She needs to be protected despite herself, I can’t lose her, Miki.”

“I’ve got it covered, Luca, just concentrate on your own safety and I’ll take care of Claire. I don’t want anything happening to either of you,” Miki replied, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

“I’ll see you at the pre-trial hearing. Keep your head down until then,” he said before the phone went dead.

After he’d hung up, anger pressed down on me like a ton of bricks. That fucking MP needed to be dealt with. His trial was set for three months from now; and it couldn’t come soon enough. No doubt the arrogant bastard still thought he’d find a way out of his charges, but he wouldn’t. There was far too much evidence against him. Also, Marko was about to hit the final nail in his coffin, by sending the prosecutor a whole new set of evidence we’d managed to uncover after we’d sent the first lot.

There was no doubt about it, he was going down. Once convicted, he would likely end up in Belmarsh or Wakefield, where some of our allies had connections in place to ensure he was taken care of. I wouldn’t rest until that was sorted. The need for revenge on the fucker was nearly driving me crazy.

The day finally arrived, and I was taken over to the court for the preliminary hearing. Sean and Finn said a quick goodbye before I left. They didn’t expect me to return, and I hoped they were right. I’d been safe with them backing me up, but both were up for trial next week, and rumour had it they’d get out. If they did and I didn’t, it would mean I’d be back to square one—open to attack again.

The Irish Mafia had a couple of other guys in on remand, too; they’d been around helping watch my back, but I didn’t know them as well. I wasn’t about to rely on them. No, I needed to get out today.

Claire was there with the rest of the gang—even Marcie and Derrick had shown up. Seeing my Bratva Blood Brothers and friends there, rooting for me, felt good.

My Little Miss Sexy Ass gave me a small smile. She looked worried, and I hoped it was just the fact she had to face her corrupt mentor today, not because she thought I wouldn’t get bailed after all.

The judge entered, and Claire began presenting my case for revoking remand and granting bail. She reiterated her previous arguments but emphasised the recent attack against me as further justification.

“The refusal to grant bail to my client after his arrest resulted in an attack that left him with several injuries, one requiring stitches, putting his life in serious jeopardy. I am requesting bail again and assert that, under these circumstances, there is no valid reason for it to be denied.”

The judge’s expression soured, her eyes glinting dangerously as Claire pressed on.

“I must remind you that, given the current media scrutiny facing the Crown Prosecution Service, denying bail in this instance could provoke even greater interest. The public was outraged when a judge granted bail to an MP accused of multiple counts of kidnap, rape, and murder, with compelling evidence against him. It would be even more concerning if the same judge denied bail to a businessman facing only one count of rape and murder, where the evidence is flimsy at best.”

It was a bold move, and I couldn’t suppress a smirk. My woman knew exactly where to strike. She was playing hardball. Elizabeth Traynor’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Claire, clearly displeased by this unexpected turn of events.

Claire held her ground, meeting her gaze defiantly. A silent exchange passed between them before the judge glanced down at her paperwork, scribbling notes. I caught the faintest hint of a smirk on Claire’s lips—a barely there expression, but I saw it. She knew she’d won.

My Little Miss Sexy Ass had a competitive streak, and she played to win. It was one of the many things I loved about her. A wicked thought crossed my mind, and I bit back my own smirk as I awaited my fate.

The judge was caught between a rock and a hard place. Granting me bail would anger whoever had insisted she refuse it in the first place, while refusing it would open her up to media scrutiny, possibly exposing her own corruption. She was bound to lose either way. I found myself wondering what she feared more—the MP or the media.

A couple of minutes later, I had my answer. The trial was set for six weeks from now, and bail was granted.

Yes!

Claire beamed at me, and I grinned back. I wanted to kiss her right there, but that would have to wait. As I’d promised myself before, as soon as I got out of here, that’s exactly what I was going to do.

I was escorted back downstairs for my release to be processed. Thank God. I couldn’t wait to reclaim my freedom, and once I had it, I intended to hold on tight.

When I was first remanded, I knew being locked up would be hard, but I didn’t realise just how suffocating it would feel, even with the O’Briens around. I knew I never wanted to return. They say, “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time,” but my dad and Miki’s had a better saying: If you’re going to commit a crime, don’t get caught.

Being born into the Bratva meant avoiding crime was impossible, making that motto a far better guide. Sure, not committing any would be ideal, but the likelihood of that was almost laughable. Still, shifting our focus from illegal dealings to white-collar crime would certainly ease the burden.

Miki would still call on me when needed, but with less overt criminal activity on the table, that demand would decrease significantly. Especially after we finally got rid of the MP. Then maybe Claire could see past my Bratva connections.

Suddenly, Miki’s push to legitimise us took on a whole new significance. I needed to encourage him to ally with the O’Briens and offload as much of our dirtier business as possible.

My future with Claire depended on it. As I waited for my belongings, a swirl of hope and anxiety filled me. I longed to hold her close, to make her feel the depth of my absence, but a nagging worry crept in—would she still resist the undeniable bond between us?

No, I refused to let that happen. Her name was etched into my very being. I belonged to her, and she belonged to me. I would kiss her until she could no longer deny what we shared. My resolve solidified; the moment I laid eyes on her again, I would stake my claim in the most passionate way possible.