Chapter 25: Why Do You Have A Gun?

Chapter 25: Why Do You Have A Gun?

Abigail

Luciano just stood there, watching me and amazed seeing his products of his actions or more like words. With only a teasing smile on his lips, he walked to the closest. I put on my clothes and used that opportunity to look at my phone and saw that Micheal had called me. When I looked back, I caught the sight of something on the chair. A small part of the object was covered by clothes and it seemed like he didn't want to see it.

I walked closer to him and picked the weapon in my hand, it was a gun and my brows furrowed. Why the hell would he have a gun laying around in his room? I jumped when I heard him clearing his throat behind me, he had changed his clothes. His eyes moved to the object in my hand and then he just stayed silent. He looked at my face, studying it for a reaction.

“Why do you have this?” I asked and he walked closer to me, taking it out of my hand and twirling it between his fingers.

“For safety.” He mumbled.

I guess it was logical, he had a high status and a huge mansion filled with guards. It was clear he needed extra safety for some reason and I found it weird though. Does he have haters in the business world? I folded my arms and looked up to meet his dark gaze.

“Why do you need all this safety? Are you wanted by the police or something?” I said ironically, smiling at my own humor.

He chuckled darkly and gazed at his own hand that rolled the gun between his fingers. It was a hot movement.

“Sugar plum, I owned the police.” He said with an amused smile.

My head titled in confusion and then I rolled my eyes as he was obviously joking.

“Really?”

He lifted his eyes to meet mine, the corner of his lips turning up in a smirk.

“You will find out soon.”

“Find out what?” I asked but he didn't respond.

Instead, he lifted his shirt, giving me a nice sight of his ripped stomach and put the gun in the waistband of his pants and my eyebrows furrowed.

“You think I am going to walk around with someone who has a gun on him?” I said but he only laughed at me and took a hold of my wrist to pull me towards the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“It is lunch time.” He muttered.

****
After lunch, I had to force him to let me go home. It told me about Michael staying with us, he tried to persuade me to not go home until he was gone. His possessive behavior was hot, but we weren't even in a relationship and still he was this possessive of me. He was right about me being hot and bothered, just watching him sit opposite me was a pain in the ass. Every time I tried to touch him or tease him, he just ignored it and moved my hand away. I felt extremely sexually frustrated and his perfect features didn't help at all.

At lunch, our waiter had apparently eye fucked me and Luciano had drawn some attention to us by threatening to put a a bullet in his head and I had to convince him to not do it. I mean, he seemed like the kind of man who could and he did have a gun. I didn't want to take any chances. His men went with us too, they always kept close to us and looked around as if they were looking for someone to jump on us. It was very weird to be honest.

They looked ridiculous next to him, though. He was a bit taller and more muscular, I mean, the guard could still kick anyone's ass but Luciano could easily kick their ass.

I was now home, in the middle of dinner by myself though. My parents were away, working and Micheal was practically glued to my father. They were close and he liked to help my father even though he didn't even work for him anymore. Definitely one of the most generous people I know, our cat was cuddled up next to me as I watched movies. My mother was the one who wanted me to come home, she still thought I was at a friend's house so I didn't really have anything to say.

Michael had stayed with us longer than decided, now approximately three weeks. I didn't mind though, having him around was nice. Since Luciano had dropped me off , I had felt that spark in my stomach disappear, that spark was there constantly when I was with him and I hated that spark even though it made me feel so alive. Because it was a sign that I was falling for him and I really didn't want to.

I don't want to be hooked on love, It is a burden.

****
Luciano POV.

I haven't seen Abigail in a week, not that I didn't want to but I was too busy. Apparently, my brother and some of my men had located Carlos Santana, the Don of The Black Lotus Mafia. After finding out that one of the men worked to smuggle my drugs to them, I didn't think twice about what I would do about the issue. I mean, it was obvious. I am going to rip their head off, I wasn't one to make enemies out of nothing but people betraying me is something I don't take lightly. And being the most powerful Don in the mafia world brought enemies on its own. Nothing I couldn't handle.

The scotch in my hand swirled around in the bottle as I poured another glass, my nightclub was filled with people as usual. The men around my table laughed and talked, I was waiting to hear from my brother about the news that Carlos had been caught. It wasn't easy kidnapping a drug lord, they were surrounded by security every second of the day. But my men were good, really good. It was an easy task, of course, the risk of his men finding out it was us and doing everything they could to get him back was possible. I doubt it though, they wouldn't dare. They would take a bigger risk than us.

My phone pinged and it was my dear brother, they were on their way back to the base. I left the club instantly.

****
I stepped out of the car, closing the door and walked into the mansion with my men behind me. It was quiet in the house, I started walking to the kitchen but the door burst open. I watched as my brother walked in with a smug look on his face and after him. Oliver and Dale held a blindfolded Carlos. He had a tape over his mouth and tied hands, they struggled with holding him still and I rolled my eyes.

“What the fuck are you two idiots doing?”

The two young men snapped their heads to me and looked at each other, exchanging a nervous look.