In the shared Anglo-American and western European set the lucky numbers are 7, 3 and 12, and the unlucky one is 13. Seven leads by a distance. It organises the week, it carries the Sabbath, it wins on the first roll at a craps table, and when psychologists ask people to name a number between one and ten it comes back more often than any other. Three is the count the ear accepts as a pattern rather than an accident. Twelve is the count that reads as finished.
Three sources are stacked on top of each other here: Hebrew scripture, Greek astronomy and Germanic counting. Genesis rests on the seventh day. The seven classical planets gave the weekdays their names, and Constantine made the seven-day week official across the Roman Empire in AD 321. English preserves the older arithmetic in plain sight. Eleven and twelve are not built out of ten at all; they come from Proto-Germanic compounds meaning one left over and two left over. Thirteen is where the counting pattern changes.
Thirteen is the loudest belief and the shallowest one. The word triskaidekaphobia is barely a century old, and the earliest firm evidence of thirteen being treated as unlucky in Europe comes after the Middle Ages rather than out of antiquity. What keeps it going now is architecture and habit. Developers relabel a floor because the flats above it sell better that way, and almost everybody who steps out at a button marked 14 knows exactly which storey they are standing on.