The Capozzi Family: Luca #1

The restaurant doors open hard. Vincenzo "Vinny" Capozzi fills the frame, shoulders squared, eyes already sweeping the booth and the shadows around it.

The waiter freezes near the wall, then keeps backing away, trying to vanish into the dark between the tables.

Vinny plants himself beside the booth like a barricade, putting his bulk between the family and the room beyond.

Mickey stays tucked in close, relieved by the sudden wall of muscle at his side, while Luca has a clear line of sight to the entrance and the retreating waiter.

Luca keeps still and lets the room settle around Vinny’s guard post. Don’s phone remains at his ear, the call carrying the weight now. Mickey watches the doorway from the safety of the booth, while the waiter hovers at the edge of the room, trying not to be noticed.

The dining room quiets another notch. Glasses stop clinking. Even the background noise from the warehouse side feels farther away, like the whole restaurant is waiting to see who answers first.

Don’s voice stays flat, but his eyes lift from the table for a second, checking Luca and Vinny both before he listens again.

Mickey shifts in the booth, suddenly more alert at the edge in Vinny’s voice. The waiter slows near the wall and glances toward the front, as if hoping the wrong person never comes through the doors.

Luca watches the waiter closely, but the man remains entirely detached from the unfolding business. There is no flicker of recognition or hidden signal between him and the broker on the other end of the line.

Donatello's phone suddenly chirps with a sharp, rhythmic vibration, signaling an incoming text rather than a voice call. He glances at the screen, his face hardening into a mask of cold fury as he reads the message.

The broker is not waiting outside the restaurant, but the digital trail he left behind suggests he is monitoring the family from a much closer vantage point.

Luca scans the dining room, his gaze lingering on the shadows and the patrons, but he finds no sign of the broker watching from within. The restaurant remains quiet, and the broker is clearly not present among the guests.

Luca scans the perimeter of the restaurant, but the broker remains a ghost in the machine, leaving no trace of their vantage point. The digital threat looms without a physical anchor, and the location of the observer remains entirely obscured.

Donatello lowers the phone a fraction and studies Luca over the rim of the booth, the call on hold in his other hand. The waiter freezes near the wall, tray held tight to his chest.

The dark screen of the face-down smartphone flashes once under the flickering lights, then goes still again. Don’s answer settles the room into a new shape, guarded and moving.

The waiter swallows and steps back into the shadows as the family’s perimeter locks in around the booth, waiting for the next name or location to come through.