36. Luca

CHAPTER 36

LUCA

A FEW DAYS LATER – IT’S FINALLY OVER

T he news anchor’s voice droned on, but I barely heard her over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears. There it was—confirmation that the MP was dead. Killed in his cell by the Irish Mafia, just like we’d planned. The screen flickered with images of the prison, the headlines crawling across the bottom of the screen.

Former MP found dead in jail; suspected foul play.

I leaned back in my chair, satisfaction settling in my chest like a weight finally lifted. The bastard had been a thorn in our side for too long. But now? He was gone, and with him, the last threat to our safety. Relief rippled through me, sharp and cleansing—not just for me, but for Claire. For all of us. We were free of him.

“They did a good job,” Miki said, his voice gruff as he turned away from the television, arms crossed over his chest.

I nodded. “Yeah, the Irish kept their end of the bargain.”

“They’ll get their reward when they take over the territory the Malia Boys and Broxys used to control. If Uncle Maxim agrees, they can handle our side of the drugs route too. That’ll get us out of it and give them the foothold they wanted. Jim MacArthur was right when he suggested aligning with Cormac.”

Miki’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “And we’ll be one step closer to our goal.”

I met his gaze, feeling the weight of what that meant. Going legitimate had been a pipe dream once—something too far off to believe in. But now? With the way things were going, it was becoming a reality. We weren’t out of the game yet, but we were getting smarter. Cleaner.

“And the lab?” Ash asked, breaking the moment.

Miki shrugged. “Glowacki still wants control if he can bolster his numbers again. The Polish Mafia have been our allies for the longest, besides Glowacki’s family now, so he gets the first shout. If he changes his mind about, we’ll see. It’s early days with the Irish. They seem trustworthy, but trust is earned. If they continue to prove themselves, maybe they’ll take over the lab too.”

If all went to plan, we’d be out of the drugs game within a year, two at the most. It was a good plan, but nothing was ever certain in our world. The MP had proved that. Let your guard down for even a second, and someone would come long to threaten everything.

The news shifted, rehashing the MP’s fall from grace. I snorted at the screen as they recited the story we’d planned.

With Claire’s help, we’d concocted a version of events that cleared me of Julie’s murder, kept my Bratva ties hidden, and handed the prosecution a perfect narrative. Joey and Julie had been lovers. When Julie found out about the hunts, she gathered proof but didn’t trust the police, so she came to me—the only man with enough power to help. Together, we sent the evidence to Interpol, staying anonymous for our safety. Once the MP and his men, including Joey, were arrested, they figured out Julie was the snitch and discovered our past connection and that I’d helped her. Out for revenge, they killed her and framed me for the murder. But when the MP failed to pay Joey as promised, Joey threatened to testify. The MP killed him to shut him up, breaking his bail conditions.

With these further charges against him, the MP’s bail was revoked, and he ended up exactly where we wanted him—in jail, ripe for our allies to finish off.

Now that he was dead, there’d be no further investigation into me. I’d already given my statement. It was over. The authorities would move on, and our police contacts would bury the truth, leaving my Bratva connections hidden under layers of misdirection and corruption.

I glanced back at the screen, a sense of finality settling over me. The MP’s death didn’t fix everything, but it closed that chapter. The bigger threats were gone, but we still had to be cautious. Marko was already on it, monitoring emails, tracking anything that might point back to us. We had people inside, watching everything, making sure nothing slipped through.

It was time to move forward, to focus on what mattered—our future. Going legit had been in the works for a while, but now it felt more urgent. With Claire by my side and the Bratva family growing, safety wasn’t just a priority—it was everything.

The thought of Claire brought a smile to my face. Everything I’d fought for, everything we’d built, was for her. For us. The future was finally within reach, and the life I wanted with her was no longer just a distant hope.

“You’re thinking about her again,” Miki’s voice cut through my thoughts. “I can tell by that stupid grin on your face.”

I didn’t bother hiding it. “Yeah. Can’t help it. She makes me happy.”

Miki chuckled. “Good. You deserve it, Luca. It’s about time you slobbered over a woman, like the rest of us.”

“Except Anton,” Ash added. “He’s still holding onto his past. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s him.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, I agreed. We all deserved it.

“In other news,” the anchor’s voice cut in, “Margaret Turner, a partner at Turner and Hanson law firm, and her son Damien Turner, have been arrested following allegations that they were regular participants in the brutal hunts orchestrated by disgraced MP Timothy Evans-Hughe through his underground network, Darkest Desire Productions…”

Satisfaction surged through me, and a grin tugged at my lips.

Marko had unearthed the last pieces of evidence—proof that both of them had been part of those twisted hunts. The police were informed, and the charges were piling up. Neither of them would ever threaten Claire again. Damien had likely been the one to leave that threatening message on her door, his last pathetic attempt to scare her. My fists clenched at the memory, the rage still raw, even though we’d already won.

But it wasn’t just about threats. One of the tapes showed Damien raping a woman, the tattoo on his arm unmistakable. He wasn’t just a coward trying to scare us—he was a monster. A murderer.

My knuckles turned white as the fury surged again. That primal need to protect Claire, to destroy anyone who even thought about hurting her, simmered just beneath the surface. Always. But for now, Damien was where he belonged. Facing charges that would keep him locked up for life.

Claire wouldn’t have to worry about him. Or his vile mother. They were done. Justice had been served.

I exhaled, releasing the tension from my body. The worst was over. Now, it was time to focus on what mattered—my future with Claire.

“I’m done with this shit for now,” I said, standing up and turning off the TV. “We’ve handled it all—the MP, Damien, the hunts. Now it’s time to focus on us. On the family.”

Miki grinned. “It’s been a long time coming, brother. I’m looking forward to making plans that don’t involve Bratva business.”

He was right. We had big plans. The estate was expanding, new homes being built. Claire and I had already put in an offer on land next to the Rominov estate. Miki was thrilled—he wanted us all close, families growing together, protected by the Bratva.

For the first time in years, the future felt certain. I had Claire. I had my Bratva brothers. The family was growing, and we were ready to build something real. Something lasting. A life that wasn’t just about surviving but thriving.

And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I wasn’t looking over my shoulder.