Chapter Nine
Lucas
The room reeks of hopelessness and fear.
My hands grip the edge of the handrests hard enough to make the metal creak. “Fucking tell me,” I shout, leaning over the bastard in the chair. “Where did Chiara go?”
His eyes are wide in terror, his body shaking like a trapped animal. “I told you, I don’t know!”
Liar. I can hear it in the way his voice shakes. I have been questioning the fucker for forty minutes straight now, ever since I came back from her house and brought him with me. I hadn’t planned this, but when I saw him, I fucking knew he had to know something.
Earlier, I returned to her father’s house once again, because what else could I do?
I didn’t knock this time I just strode in like I owned the place.
I knew that Francesco was not there, since I had him confined in the clinic.
The housekeeper tried to block me with her small frame when she saw me in the hallway.
“Mr. Romano, please—”
“Move,” I said in a low voice and she must’ve heard the threat in that one word because she let me pass, face pale and hands wringing.
The second I opened the door to Chiara’s room, her faint scent hit me.
Fresh, soft and flowery, and I inhaled the air like it could save my soul.
The bed was neatly made—it obviously hadn’t been used for some time.
I sat down on the edge, trying to imagine on which side she preferred to sleep.
Then something caught my eye—a light pink scarf thrown over the back of her chair.
I stood to pick it up and brought it to my nose.
Her scent flooded my senses, and I let myself fall on my back on her bed with the piece of fabric over my nose.
When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel her nearby.
But still, there was something missing. The scent of her warm skin, the awareness of her being close tingling over my spine.
The melodic sound of her voice. The warmth of her laugh brushing over my skin.
It wasn’t there, and all I had left of her was the scarf and the scent of flowers, cold and painful in my lungs.
I laid like this for hours, breathing in her perfume and hoping it would soothe my frayed nerves. But all it did was awaken a deep hunger. And with it, the certainty that she had been more than just a friend despite what I’d tried to convince myself for a year and a half.
I remember exactly the moment my eyes met hers for the first time.
It had been in this very room. She was sitting on the bed, eyes downcast, pale and sad, and I had moved the chair in front of her to sit and question her about her sister.
Then she lifted her hazel gaze to meet mine and I plummeted and drowned in her eyes.
The amber irises rimmed by pure emerald captured me and never let go.
My heart thundered and my breath caught in my throat.
As for my brain, it couldn’t remember a single question I was going to ask her.
I had fumbled through the interrogation like a goddamn novice, trying to hide my nervousness behind a flirty smile.
But she didn’t bite. She never did. Even when we got closer, she treated me more like a pesky brother, teasing me lightly or sending me a pointed gaze when my antics went too far.
And I pushed further and further, only realizing now that I did it because I wanted her attention. No, I needed her attention.
‘Phoebus.’ That’s what she’d called me, after some goddamn asshole in her favorite gothic novel.
A fucking dumbass womanizer. I grit my teeth, heart pounding in my chest as I inhaled through her scarf.
That might be what I had been, but that was before I met her.
If only she knew the truth. From that day our eyes locked for the first time, I had lost interest in the chase, in the hollow laughter and the easy company of women whose names I immediately forgot. One look at her and it was over.
But I pretended otherwise, I told myself I was too busy with hunting down Manticore, with keeping the famiglia safe, that I was too weighed down with responsibilities to waste time on women.
I tried to keep up appearances, flirting and dallying around even though I never stayed interested enough to take anyone back to a room at the guest floor of The Bastion.
But the lies I had told myself lifted like a veil in her room, on her bed, and I realized with shattering clarity that the reason I stopped was because from the moment I looked into her eyes, there was no one else.
There never could be. My head spun from the realization, and I would’ve dropped to my knees, had I not been lying on her bed.
Hours later, I finally forced myself to leave. Outside, I saw her driver polishing the family town car with a cloth. He straightened when he saw me and he murmured a subdued “Afternoon, Mr. Romano.”
I stopped dead. Did he just avert his eyes?
I stepped in front of him, studying his face. “You’re Chiara’s driver.”
He looked up and his spine straightened even more. “Yes, sir. I’m Tomaso.”
“You’ve taken her places lately?”
He hesitated, and the frightened look on his face made my blood boil.
Now, he’s tied to a chair across from me in a dim, airless room in the infamous second sub-level of The Bastion. The floor that doesn’t officially exist.
“Where did she go?” I ask again, leaning forward, my voice low and rough.
I haven’t shaved in days, my shirt is rumpled and my eyes burn from too much whiskey and too little sleep. I probably look half-feral, and right now, I don’t fucking care.
“You’ve been driving her around. Where. Is. She?” I say, shoving him back so hard the chair screeches across the floor. “Either you talk, or I make you wish you had.”
“I-I swear, I don’t know, sir, she never told me where she was going, I never saw her leave. Please, you must believe me. I have a family,” he whimpers, shaking his head.
Cold fury floods my veins and I’m about to step up the game when the door swings open with a loud bang. I look over my shoulder and see D walking in.
Just perfect, Teo must’ve snitched on me. I’m gonna kill that motherfucker the second I’m done with this one.
D glances at the scene and he narrows his eyes. “Enough.” His deep voice brooks no argument.
I return my attention to the man, hands bracing on the armrests and gaze back to pinning Tomaso’s. My breathing is ragged, my pulse a dull drumbeat in my ears. “He knows something,” I grit out.
“He doesn’t,” D snaps. “And you’re not thinking straight.”
I laugh, but it sounds unhinged. “You think I give a damn? She’s gone.” My voice cracks on the last word, and I hate myself for it.
He crosses the room, grabs my shoulder and yanks me away from the man. “Let him go, Luc. He knows nothing. You’re going to tear this city apart if you keep going like this.”
I wrench away, pacing toward the wall because if I look at him, I’ll lose what little control I have left. “Good,” I mutter. “Maybe then she won’t be able to hide in the ruins.”
* * * *
Hours later, D and Teo are dragging me away from Teo’s club, Second Circle, where I have been slowly drinking myself into a stupor.
“Leave me be, fuckers,” I hear myself bellow through the red haze.
“That’s enough,” Teo growls as he drapes one of my arms over his shoulder while D does the same with the other. “Jesus, you reek like an illegal distillery. How much have you been drinking?”
“Not enough, since I can still hear your goddamn voice,” I seethe, thrashing against their hold. “Let go, I’m not done here.”
“Yeah, you’re done.” D’s growl booms from my other side. “Don’t make us punch some fucking sense into you.”
They drag me away, and even though I put up as much fight as I can, I’m no match for the two fuckers.
I’m not small, but right now they hoist me into the elevator and all but carry me into the suite I have here for occasional stays when our business meetings end in the dead of night.
Minutes later, I am lying shirtless on the bed, looking with fascination at the spinning ceiling.
“There’s a bottle of water on the nightstand, along with your phone.
I’ll leave the bedside lamp on. If you need anything, you know the front desk’s number.
” Teo’s quiet voice is laced with concern, and shame begins to choke me up.
I wait until they are gone, then drape my arm over my eyes, wondering how the fuck my life has gone so deep down the gutter that my two childhood friends had to drag me away from myself.
What a pathetic fool.