Chapter 25 Selene
Chapter twenty-five
Selene
The bed feels comfortable as I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling. Slight shuffles reach my ear from inside the closet, and I feel the headache pounding against my temple. Maria’s daughter, Aliyah, is cleaning the vanity.
I turn slightly, watching her. She’s tall, almost the same height as me, and has Maria’s brown hair and eyes. Her hands are a bit jittery, her feet, too. She almost trips over the chair a couple of times. I can tell she’s nervous.
It’s obvious she’s new at this. But for Cortez to let her in his mansion means he trusts her…he trusts Maria. I wonder what transpired between them and how she owes him.
The familiar unease forces me to reposition my head back on the bed. Since I ate breakfast this morning, my stomach has been unsettled. Nausea keeps twisting my insides in knots, and this is the only position that manages it.
Nana would say it’s the phone. A faint smile slips onto my lips.
She usually attributed any little inconvenience I had to screen time.
I wonder what she’d say about all of this.
Fake engagement to the most powerful don in New York.
The hunch about Luca. She’d probably just say to keep going…
that there’s light at the end of the tunnel.
The fan continues to whirl above me as I fix my eyes on its center. Luca had to have left a clue about his location on the card. But I’ve looked and looked, and found nothing.
Nothing is out of place or sticks out to me on the card. Everything is just as I remember from my childhood memories. I release a frustrated breath, turning to my side.
What happens if I don’t find a clue? It’s one thing to find something and another to find it in time. And if Luca is indeed still alive, he sure doesn’t have the luxury of time.
My jaw tightens as I plunge my brain down memory lane, searching for any possible hints in memories of our childhood. Nothing!
The thought of telling Cortez nudges at my temples for the umpteenth time today, but I shake it away. Telling him would do me no good.
But fucking him will!
I hold my breath as images of our intense pleasure rush to my mind. I can’t lie, he has a damn glorious dick. And God, does he know how to use it. But I can’t deny that that isn’t just where ‘it’ ends for me anymore.
It—no, rather he—now lingers in my mind...in a way he’s never been. It’s like he’s stuck there. I don’t know what it is, but it feels like I’m now overly aware of him…and it’s starting to go beyond physical needs.
I want to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, how he’s doing.
At every moment, crucial or not, my brain finds a way to bring back thoughts of him...even now.
My stomach curls, and a storm of emotions wages war inside me.
God! It should be just sex…he should be just sex! An object of pleasure—a temporary distraction.
A way to burn frustration and pull through this whole fucking mess I’m stuck in. Why can’t I enjoy the moment without all these stupid feelings accompanying it?
Releasing a deep sigh, I shove my hand under the pillow tightly as if it could strangle the thoughts in my head. I feel for the card I’d shoved there earlier, and my heart skips a beat when I bring it out.
“How do I find you, Luca?” I breathe, running a finger along the edges of the card. The blood on the corner is definitely his mark.
I narrow my eyes at it, thoughts once again running through my mind. Where would I hide a code on this card? If I were Luca, how would I hide a code in plain sight?
I flip the card over and run my fingers across it. No indents apart from the hole in the center. There’s no chance that anything is ingrained on it.
Flipping it to the front, I repeat the same process, slowly rising as I do so. Light. I need light.
Without hesitation, I jump out of bed and crouch before the nightstand, turning on the lamp. My breath thickens in my chest as I examine the card under the light. But even from all angles, there doesn’t seem to be anything on the surface.
A nerve pops in my head, spreading an ache across my forehead. The strain in my eyes becomes intense as the light illuminates sharply against my retina.
Then, all of a sudden, something clicks.
There’s nothing on the surface. How about beneath?
I turn the card again, but this time to the side. Using my fingernails, I trail lightly along the edge of the card until I find a dip. My heart races as I dig deeper until the outer layer parts into two to reveal another thin layer.
With my thumb, I part the layers, tearing them further until a small, white piece of paper falls out. My breath comes out as a gasp. Luca.
How have I not figured this out earlier?
Discarding the card, I examine the plain piece of paper under the light once more, and I instantly see it. A code. It’s faint—very faint—and would definitely reflect plainly if examined without the light.
555.
My knees grow weak, and I sit, wheels spinning in my head. 555 does not ring any bells as far as our childhood shenanigans go. It also doesn’t seem like any complete coordinates…
…Except it is incomplete.
Clenching my teeth, I repeat the same process for the other edge and almost leap for joy when I find a second piece of paper, the same tiny size as the first, and with equally faint markings.
019
As I stare at it, something hits me. This isn’t some random code. It must be part of a phone number!
My thoughts are confirmed when I yank the card apart and find the last four digits.
Adrenaline flares in my system and I rise shakily, searching for my phone. I’m about to input the number when I recall my calls may be tapped by Cortez.
I look around and see no sign of Aliyah. She must have gone while I was deep in thought.
Hurriedly, I open the door and rush to Maria’s room. The guards already know the drill—I can visit her for just a few days—but they still follow me.
I knock twice and stop when I hear shuffling behind the door. After a while, Maria opens the door, her hand behind her back.
“Hey, Maria,” I enter, faking a smile.
“Wow. You came yesterday. Today, too? Are you sure the boss is okay with this?” she whispers, struggling to walk back to her bed. A pang of guilt pinches my chest, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I help her onto the bed. “I came to check up on you.”
“I’m fine. There’s no need to worry,” she shakes her head with a smile. “You and Aliyah are no different.”
“Hmm hmm,” I nod mindlessly.
“She sometimes sneaks in the dead of the night from her room to see me.”
As she rambles on about her daughter, I scan the room for her phone and find it on the vanity a few feet from me. Discreetly, I take it and stay with her until she falls asleep, which isn’t long, before I slip out.
I get to my room, align the numbers, and the tension in my bones is back. I hope to God that her phone isn’t tapped. And even if it is, listening in on a cleaner’s calls wouldn’t be a priority for Cortez. The only priority here is me. That, he made clear.
I input the number, trying both order variations of the three-digit codes, shakily pressing the dial each time.
It becomes increasingly difficult to breathe as the line beeps. Bile rises in my throat. Then my breath seizes when someone answers the second number combination I dialed.
“Hello.” The voice is deep and gravelly. Just how I remember it. I still can’t believe my ears.
“L-Luca?” My eyes water as my lips quiver.
There’s shuffling on the other end before the person breathes.
“Se-Selene, oh…thank God,” he strains.
I stare at the phone with wide eyes to be sure I’m not dreaming. “Luca? Is it really you? You’re alive?”
My throat tightens when he speaks again. “It’s me, Selene. And I’m in tr-trouble. Big time.”
Another shuffling reaches my ears, but this time with a loud sound of a gunshot. “Fuck!” He grunts, his breathing growing heavier.
Nausea tightens my stomach.
“Meet…me-meet me in two days. 8 p.m. at Guadalajara. Dad’s old ship ya—”
Another gunshot echoes through the phone. Suddenly, the line breaks, and my stomach lurches violently.
I race to the bathroom, barely making it there as I hunch over the sink, spilling the contents of my stomach. Fuck!
Another wave of nausea racks my stomach, and the contents come out without warning this time. The headache intensifies as acid burns my throat. Then my heart starts to race.
I lift my head to see my reflection in the mirror. Dilated pupils, pale skin and chapped lips. Shaking my head, I splash water on my face.
Fuck. Luca. I hope he’s oka—
The words don’t make it out as I stop dead in my tracks, chest filling with horror when I catch a glimpse of the unused sanitary pad behind me.
Hold on!
My brows furrow as I take in my appearance again, my legs suddenly growing weak. When was the last I—
No.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest, echoing the fear that shrouds my mind.
This can’t be. It’s stress. The food. The nervousness about finding Luca—the fear of what he’s in.
I shake my head. But as I do a mental calculation, I realize the dates do click together.
I’m late. My period is late. By two weeks now.
No. No. No.
I grip the edge of the sink for balance, my knuckles bleaching white. But the world tilts anyway.
My period is always right on time. It’s barely late. Why now?
When I have to save Luca? His voice echoes in my head. I’m in trouble. But it’s drowned out by the roar of my heart in my ears.
The walls narrow and I feel myself sway before my knees hit the floor. My breath saws in and out in rapid pants. Tears dot my vision.
A baby. Cortez’s baby.
I hold my head in my hands. My life is barely hanging together by a thread, and now I’m bringing a baby to my messy world? Worst of all, Cortez’s baby! How the hell did I end up here?
Well, obviously, you keep fucking him, Selene!
No. That can’t be. I can’t be sure I’m pregnant yet. The only thing I’m sure of right now is Luca.
And I need to focus on that.