Chapter 20
Lucien
"Boss, it's all here." Rocco slid a thick file across my desk. I flipped through it page by page. "Transfer went through a Delaware shell company, recipient was his wife's family. Date—November twenty-seventh."
I tapped the date. "You're sure?"
"Positive." Rocco nodded grimly. "Eleven days before that supposed 'Julian confession' video Miss Serena showed you."
"Go on."
"The dispatch schedule was on your study desk that day.
But I checked the physical file—no signs of movement or handling.
What leaked was the electronic copy from the terminal.
Source was the Red Hook Warehouse Three account, login ID Rizzo—Ethan's father, one of Hayek's men. Time stamp: two forty-seven a.m."
Two forty-seven in the morning.
That was when Elora was in my arms. She'd gotten up in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep, massaging my temples until she dozed off against my chest.
She never touched anything. She couldn't have even known the password to that terminal!
The ventilation hum suddenly became unbearably loud, pounding against my skull.
Once again... I'd thrown every accusation at her without a second thought. I'd even destroyed her dignity in that detention room with the cruelest words I could find.
The crushing weight of guilt and remorse choked my throat. My stomach twisted violently.
"Rizzo sleeps with the fishes. Give Marco the evidence. Let the council handle Hayek themselves." I shot to my feet, grabbing my coat. "Back to the manor! Now!"
I couldn't wait to see her. I needed to carry her out of that freezing detention room, to kneel before her, to let her hit me, curse me—anything to make her forgive me.
I floored it back to the manor, arriving at five a.m.
I practically ran down the east wing corridor. Enzo stood guard outside the detention room door. When he saw me, he straightened. "Boss."
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart, and unlocked the door.
"Elora..."
The lights were on, but the bed was empty. The sheets lay flat and smooth. The bathroom door stood ajar, silent as a tomb.
"Elora?"
I rushed into the bathroom. Empty.
Devastating panic shot from my feet straight to my brain! I spun around and grabbed Enzo by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "Where is she? Where the hell is she?"
Enzo's face went white. When he saw the empty room, the color drained completely. "Boss... I-I was right outside..."
"Did you leave? Did you?" I roared.
"Yes... for ten minutes..." Enzo's voice shook. "Someone from the kitchen said you called me to Warehouse Three. I went, found no one, figured you'd changed your mind and came straight back..."
A diversion! I shoved him aside and tore up to the second floor like a madman, kicking open the master bedroom door.
The room was pristine. All the jewelry, designer bags, and elegant dresses Lucien had given her remained untouched in the closet. She hadn't taken a single thing.
But when I reached the bed, my breath stopped cold. On my pillow lay a small amber glass bottle—the bourbon vetiver essential oil she'd searched months for, impossibly precious to her.
Under the bottle was a pink sticky note, her neat handwriting across it.
—Three drops on the diffusing stone each time. No strong coffee after eight p.m. Don't always stay up late.
Along the edge of the note, a faint water stain had made the ink blur slightly.
Her tears.
On this night when I'd suspected her, imprisoned her, driven her to the edge—she'd still packed her few old clothes and left thinking about my insomnia.
She wasn't the mole who stole information. She was just... done with me.
"Ugh..."
Crushing dizziness and despair crashed over me. My eyes burned. I collapsed against the nightstand, sliding to the floor. My hands trembled as I clutched the small bottle and the note to my chest. The pain in my heart felt like it would split me open.
Enzo appeared in the doorway. "Boss—"
Boiling rage and self-loathing erupted. I lunged up and grabbed Enzo, smashing my fist into his face!
"I gave her to you! You're telling me you left for ten minutes and she vanished? Why didn't you watch her? Why did you let her run?"
Blood poured from Enzo's nose, but he didn't dodge or resist. "It's my fault... Boss, kill me if you want!"
I pulled my gun from my waist with shaking hands and pressed it to his head!
"Boss! Stop!" Rocco charged up and clamped down on my wrist. "Killing him won't bring Elora back! Someone deliberately set this up to let her go, to make her look guilty! You need to calm down!"
The gun hit the floor with a crash. I buried my face in the pale gray silk nightgown Elora had left behind. It still carried her faint scent of white tea and citrus.
"Find her..." My jaw clenched, each word tasting of blood. "Turn Manhattan inside out... I want her back!"
The next three days, I existed like a ghost wandering in darkness.
Insomnia consumed me completely. Without her beside me, even burning that bottle of bourbon vetiver filled the air only with endless regret and emptiness.
Until the fourth morning, when Harrison brought news—Natalie had woken up.
I practically stumbled into Natalie's room. She sat propped against the headboard, thick bandages wrapped around her head, face pale and gaunt.
When she saw me, she smiled weakly and beckoned. "Lucien..."
"Mother!" I dropped to my knees beside the bed, gripping her hand tightly. "How do you feel? Does your head still hurt?"
"I'm fine, silly boy." Natalie touched my hair, her eyes somewhat confused as she looked around. "Where's Elora? Why isn't she here?"
My breath caught. My fingertips went ice-cold.
"She..." I swallowed the bitter taste in my throat, forcing out the words. "She's busy with some new formulas at the shop... She'll be back in a couple of days."
Natalie nodded uncertainly, stroking my cracked lips and the stubble on my jaw, and sighed. "Lucien, how did you get so thin? ...Speaking of which, when Elora comes back, I need to apologize to her personally."
My heart slammed against my ribs. "Apologize? Mother, do you remember what happened in the garage that day?"
I stood urgently. "Tell me, who hit you in the garage that day? Besides you and Elora, who else was there? Where was Serena?"
Natalie looked startled by my sudden intensity, then shook her head somewhat blankly. "The garage? I don't remember... Harrison said I have retrograde amnesia. The few hours before the accident are completely blank."
My heart sank.
"Then what you meant about apologizing..."
"I meant that afternoon in the glass conservatory." Natalie squeezed my hand, regret filling her eyes. "When Serena collapsed, I panicked. I forced Elora to apologize. Only after I calmed down did I realize how much I'd hurt that child... When she comes back, I absolutely must make it up to her."
"It's not just you who needs to apologize..." My voice came out hoarse. "I do too."
But I didn't even know if I still had the right.
Leaving Natalie's room, I'd just turned the corner on the first floor when Serena appeared, holding a tray outside the study door.
"Lucien." She looked up, eyes full of warmth and concern. "I made broth for three hours. You haven't eaten in days. Anthony said you—"
I walked past her coldly, pushing open the study door. "Leave it there."
Serena followed me in, setting the tray on the corner of the desk, saying softly, "Natalie woke up—truly God's blessing. Did she... remember what happened in the garage that day?"
I stopped and turned my head, gray eyes falling on her face without warmth.
"No."
Serena visibly relaxed, relief washing over her features. "Maybe not remembering is better. Remembering such things would only be torture, and besides... it's all in the past now."
She stepped forward, reaching out to take my arm.
"Lucien, watching you torture yourself these past days over her has broken my heart.
Why put yourself through this for a woman who ran away?
She left without a word, ran the moment trouble came—no sense of responsibility at all. A woman from that kind of background—"
"How do you know she ran?"
I cut her off coldly.
Serena's words stuck in her throat. The smile froze on her face.
I turned slowly to face her, looking down. "Elora's departure—only I, Enzo, and Rocco in the entire manor knew. I told everyone she was on a business trip. Serena, how did you know she 'ran away'?"
Serena's pupils contracted violently. The color drained from her face in seconds. She stumbled backward half a step, stammering, "I-I just... I hadn't seen her in days, heard servants gossiping... I guessed..."
Guessed?
Looking at her seemingly pure and innocent face, countless past scenes crashed through my mind—
Julian's sudden appearance at the dinner table, her bizarre fall at the champagne tower, Harrison's warning about her medication dosages, and the conveniently cut garage surveillance before Natalie's accident!
All the seemingly absurd coincidences snapped together in that moment.
I looked at the woman before me, feeling a thick, bone-chilling disgust rise from the depths of my heart. How blind had I been to treat such a venomous snake as a sister who needed protection?
"Lucien..." Serena seemed to sense the murderous intent radiating from me. Her eyes reddened. She suddenly pressed her hand to her chest, shoulders heaving violently as her breathing became rapid and labored. "My... my heart... medicine... Lucien... it hurts so much..."
She collapsed toward me like she'd done countless times before, waiting for my panic.
But this time, I stood perfectly still. I didn't even lift a hand.
I watched her perform like a clown in front of me.
I called toward the door, voice ice-cold.
"Rocco."
The door opened. Rocco strode in. "Boss."
"Pack up Miss Casalesi's belongings. All of them." I turned my back. "Take her back to Casalesi Manor immediately. And remember—deliver her personally to Carlo."