Wait For You - 'Look After You' Sequel - A Michael Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter 5

Luca parked near the back entrance, the car settling into silence as the engine died.

"Get some rest," I told him, stepping out of the car. "Tomorrow, we see how deep this city runs."

I shut the door before he could answer, heels clicking softly against the pavement as I walked toward the hotel entrance.

Behind me, the night felt like it was listening. An obvious black car followed us in shortly after we arrived.

And somewhere, beneath the hum of the city, I swore I could hear the world starting to shift.

The morning bled through the blinds in thin, gold stripes, cutting across the floor and over the edge of the bed where my gun lay beside the nightstand.

I was already awake. I hadn't slept much.

My mind never really stopped moving long enough to let me.

The low sound of running water came from the bathroom, Luca's morning routine. He was always up before the sun, always on guard, even when we were supposed to be off the clock.

That's what made him good. That's what made him dangerous.

By the time he stepped out, towel around his neck, I was sitting at the edge of the bed, cigarette burning between my fingers.

"You check the window yet?" I asked without looking up.

"Checked twice," he said, voice rough from sleep. "Same black sedan that was parked out front when we came in. Didn't move all night."

"Engine?"

"Off. No plates on the back."

I exhaled smoke toward the ceiling. "So they're patient."

Luca smirked faintly. "Or waiting for orders."

I finally looked up. "Then they'll be disappointed."

He gave a short laugh, leaning against the wall. "You really want to go back there today? We could play this smart, wait it out."

I stood, stubbed out the cigarette, and crossed to the small table where my things were laid out in perfect precision. "You know that's not my style."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, that's what worries me."

"I'm not walking into a trap," I said, fastening the clasp on my bracelet. "I'm walking into opportunity. Big difference."

"That's what everyone says before shit goes sideways," he muttered.

I turned my head toward him, one brow arched. "You think I don't see the angles? We've dealt with worse. Half of Chicago wanted us dead at one point. We're still standing."

"Barely," he shot back.

I smiled, a small, razor-edged thing. "Barely is enough."

He shook his head, grabbing his jacket. "You're impossible."

"I'm effective," I corrected.

He laughed quietly under his breath and let it drop.

I took my time getting ready, every movement deliberate. The kind of preparation that wasn't for vanity, but for armor.

The mirror reflected a woman who didn't hesitate.

My hair was slicked back in soft waves, the kind that framed my face but didn't get in the way if I needed to handle business.

The red lipstick was new, bold, unapologetic, the kind that made men underestimate you just long enough to regret it.

A black silk blouse tucked into tailored high-waisted slacks. Diamond earrings. A gold watch. Every inch screamed control.

By the time I stepped out, Luca was watching from the doorway. He gave a small whistle. "You trying to make an impression or start a war?"

"Why not both?" I said.

He grinned. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

I tilted my head, smiling faintly. "You already are. You just don't know it yet."

He laughed, and for a second, the edge between us softened. That was the thing about Luca, we could throw knives with words and still trust each other to catch them before they cut too deep.

But the moment passed fast.

"Let's move," I said, grabbing my keys.

We stepped into the hallway, every sound amplified, the hum of the lights, the muffled chatter from the lobby, the quiet echo of our shoes against marble tile.

Outside, the sun was blinding. The black sedan was still parked where it had been last night.

Same angle. Same windows tinted too dark to see inside.

Luca stopped beside me, hand drifting toward his holster.

"Don't," I said quietly. "If they wanted to make a move, they would've done it while we were asleep."

He gave me a look. "You sure about that?"

"Positive," I said. "They want to see where we're headed. Let them."

We got in the car. The engine roared to life. I adjusted the mirror just enough to catch a glimpse of the sedan behind us.

It stayed still until we reached the main road, then eased out into traffic, two cars back.

Luca noticed too. "You want me to lose them?"

I shook my head. "No. Let them keep watching. We'll give them a show."

He grinned despite himself. "You're insane."

"Maybe," I said. "But I'm good at it."

The drive back toward the Velvet Room was slower this time. The morning light made the city look almost innocent, palm trees glowing like gold wires, the streets quieter than they would be by noon.

"Once we're inside," Luca said, eyes on the road, "We play it calm. You ask the questions. I watch their reactions."

"Like old times," I said.

"Exactly," he replied. "Except this time, we're not on home turf."

I smiled. "Home is wherever people listen when I speak."

He glanced over at me, shaking his head with that small, crooked smile. "You scare me sometimes."

"You should be scared of anyone who isn't scared," I said.

We turned down the main boulevard. The club came into view, still elegant, still guarded, still humming like it had something to hide.

I checked my lipstick in the mirror, smoothed my blouse, and slid my sunglasses down over my eyes.

"Ready?" Luca asked.

I nodded once, lips curling into a quiet, confident smile. "Always."