Chapter 25 Chiara
Chiara
Luka’s barely said a word since we brought him home. He refuses to look me in the eye, and when I asked if he wanted to watch something with me, he shook his head and said he preferred to be alone.
Ants crawl under my skin and I feel like punching someone, preferably my husband. The bastard refuses to discuss anything related to Luka’s overdose. When I asked, he just dismissed me and said they were dealing with it. Whatever that means.
When I woke up this morning, there was an indentation on the pillow next to mine, and the sheets smelled of cologne. I figured it had to be Kane, but I found out an hour ago he left last night and has yet to return.
That means Angelo came into my room while I slept and crawled into bed with me. A few months ago, I’d have clawed his face off if he’d tried that, but things have changed. I don’t know how I feel about him anymore.
I don’t even know if, given the opportunity, I’d leave him.
How can I leave Luka?
Or Felix?
Coco would come with me, but I couldn’t take Felix.
Ugh, my life has become a gigantic, confusing mess.
Fina sits at the kitchen table swiping through her phone. Her hair is scraped back into a ponytail and she’s dressed in a gigantic sweater and pink leggings. It’s a way more casual look on her than I’m used to. The minute Angelo leaves, I scurry over to her.
“Are you alright?”
She looks up with red-rimmed eyes and scoffs. “No. I feel like death. If I’d known how horrible pregnancy was, I’d have had my tubes tied.”
“That bad, eh?” I pat her arm in a gesture of sympathy. “You make an excellent case for never having sex again.” No joke.
“You say that, but I see the way you eye-fuck Kane when you think nobody’s watching,” she teases. My face heats and I cough, thankful Kane isn’t around.
“He’s…pretty.”
She chuckles, a sparkle of amusement lighting up her expression for the first time in days.
“Pretty dangerous, you mean. Nobody ever called Kane pretty and lived to tell the tale.”
Her comment makes me curious. “How long have you known him?”
“Since he started working for my father when he turned sixteen.”
That takes me by surprise. I assumed he and Angelo met at school or whatever. It’s obvious their friendship dates back many years.
“How come?”
“Kane’s father was a deadbeat drunk. Since Kane’s mother wasn’t around and his grandmother was sick and couldn’t care for him, one of the street guys offered him a job.
Dad saw him beat the crap out of an older guy one day and offered him a position as one of Angelo’s bodyguards.
He was a big bastard even then.” She smiles before her lips flatten.
“He knew the boys would form a relationship as they were close in age. Dad is strategic. Kane became Angelo’s protector and enforcer, and also his best friend, which gives our father leverage. Hurt Kane and you hurt Angelo.”
The more I learn about Lorenzo, the more I despise him. The man’s a monster.
“I’d better go,” she sighs. “Dad expects me home for dinner.”
She makes no move to leave, though. “Has he said anymore about, you know what?” I’m reluctant to say the word marriage in case it triggers a meltdown. Fina’s strong, but we all have our limits.
“No. But he won’t tell me anything until it’s a done deal.” Without thinking, I reach for her hand and squeeze it lightly.
“I’m on your side.” I flash her a fake-as-fuck smile. “My offer to kill the bastard still stands.” She smirks before her eyes widen in alarm.
“Who are you plotting to kill, princess?” Angelo sounds amused rather than furious, so he can’t have heard the rest of our conversation.
“You, darling. Make sure you sleep with one eye open.” I wink at Fina before sauntering out of the kitchen.
Even though it’s late, I can’t sleep. My phone tells me it’s after one in the morning, but no matter how many times I plump my pillows and count sheep, sleep refuses to come. In the end, I pull on a sweater over my cami and shorts and wander downstairs.
There’s no sign of Angelo or Kane, and the lights are all off. Coco stayed in her bed, but Felix follows me. He rubs his head against my leg as I enter the kitchen.
“No snacks. You’ll get fat,” I tell him when he hops onto the counter and stares longingly at the cupboard where I store his treats.
Treats that mysteriously appeared a few days after he arrived. I suspect Angelo added them to the grocery list. He seems to have bonded with the cat, even though he loves to feign surprise when Felix tries to sit on his lap.
Felix purrs loudly when I open the packet and drop some fish treats on the counter. Leaving him to gobble them up, I fill a glass with cold water from the dispenser.
It’s a mild night, so I decide to sit outside for a bit. Maybe counting stars will trick my brain into thinking it’s sleep time. The alternative is a self-induced orgasm, but I’m not in the mood to give Angelo a free show. He doesn’t deserve it.
To my surprise, Luka is already there, lying on a reclining chair, wearing a loose pair of cotton pants. He doesn’t take any notice of me when I step outside. A pang of hurt rips through me, but I swallow it down.
He’s dealing with a lot right now, so piling on the guilt won’t help.
“Hey,” I say, hoping to trigger a reaction, but I get nothing. So I move to the adjacent recliner, place my glass on the floor, and wait for him to say something.
A yawning chasm of silence stretches between us like a vast, unnavigable ocean. Just when I’m about to give up and leave him alone, he speaks.
“I’m sorry.”
I sit up, confused. “Sorry?”
“Sorry for fucking up.” Felix slinks out of the shadows at the far side of the pool and hops onto the foot of my recliner. He watches Luka for a few seconds and then sits and grooms his glossy coat.
“You have nothing to be sorry about!” How can he possibly blame himself when the evidence clearly shows someone did this to him?
“I should have told Vasily to fuck off.” He grips the edge of the recliner’s wooden frame so hard his knuckles turn white. “I was supposed to call you and then come straight back, but I let him talk me into a drink.”
“It’s okay, Luka.” I reach for him, but he snatches his hand away.
“No, it’s not okay. I’m a fuck-up.” I watch helplessly as he curls in on himself. He’s so paralyzed by self-loathing that he’s pushing me away.
I can’t stand seeing him in pain. None of this is his fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s Lorenzo for fucking with his head so that he automatically blames himself when shit goes wrong.
I refuse to let Luka beat himself up over this.
“Is it my fault a psychopath abducted me and I ended up in Scotland?” My question jolts Luka out of his downward spiral. He turns to me with a shocked expression.
“No, of course not!”
“Then why is this your fault? Someone drugged you against your will. They spiked your drink, Luka. You couldn’t stop what happened next any more than I could prevent what happened to me. I don’t know the details, but it seems like your so-called friend, Vasily, was a part of it.”
Luka says nothing, but I know he knows I’m right, even though he refuses to admit it.
Before he can protest, I crawl off my recliner and move astride his thighs. I place my hands on his cheeks and force him to look at me.
“I love you, which means it hurts me when you shut me out.” His eyes are glossy, and I fight back my own tears. This isn’t about me, even though I desperately want to cry and scream and rail at the world for hurting him so badly.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, this time in a voice so faint it’s barely a whisper.
“No more apologies,” I growl. We both need to forget about the last two days, so I do the one thing I know will get him out of his head.