Chapter 34 Roran
Roran
“So, Roran Morozova,” the man from before calls out.
My name on his tongue sounds foreign—not just stripped of its Russian accent, but spoken in a tone that feels almost mocking, as if he’s testing how it fits in his mouth.
I don’t know the version of me he thinks he’s addressing. Because the me I do know… never deserved any of this.
“What exactly do you need from Pedro?” His expression sharpens, eyes narrowing enough to burn a hole straight through my forehead if they were truly weapons.
“Dad,” Kayla sighs, stepping forward to stand in front of me. Her back shields me.
My pulse jumps at the unfamiliar sensation—someone standing up for me. Protecting me. The only one who ever did that before was Diana.
Please let her be okay. Please.
“Kayla,” he growls. “Step back.”
It isn’t a suggestion. She knows it too. She clenches her fists, spits out something sharp in Italian under her breath, then steps back beside Chris, who now stands at her father’s side.
If that’s Kayla and Maleciandro’s father, then he—the one questioning me—must be Luca Spallo.
I knew it.
Every cell in my body lit up like a warning flare the second he came closer the first time.
That’s why everyone in the room follows every flicker of his fingers, every breath, every subtle shift in posture.
It’s tense. But strangely… I’m not as afraid as I should be.
He doesn’t wear the face of a man about to deliver a kill. He’s calculating. Reading. Testing.
Violence—that, I can predict. I’ve always known the split second before a hand would come down, before a belt would crack, before a knife would cut. But now? For once, I’m not on anyone’s black list. At least not in this space.
It’s almost funny that in this room—among the very monsters I grew up warned about—I’m not worried for my life. For the first time.
But Kayla stood up for me. In front of one of the most feared men in New York, in front of her flesh and blood. Why? Is this all a game? A test?
“Well?” Luca’s voice cuts through, almost amused, as he keeps his gaze pinned on me.
Only now do I realize I haven’t spoken a single word since entering this locked office—the same one Maleciandro vanished into earlier. Apparently, it’s Luca’s office.
“There’s a medicine only my father has,” I finally say. My voice comes out steady, clear, stronger than I expected. “He gives it to me every two weeks because I’m sick. If I don’t get the next dose by next week… I might lose my mind here.”
I surprise myself by getting it all out in one breath. No trembling, no forced manners. Just the truth.
I’m too comfortable here. Especially around Kayla and her aunt.
“I assume you don’t know what this medicine is, do you?” Luca presses.
I shake my head. “I just know that even Ivan agreed to this marriage alliance because he wanted access to it too.”
The more I tell them, the faster they might move. The faster they might find Diana and the drug.
“They had a deal—supplying this drug regularly. And they talked about a shipment of… something. It wasn’t one of their usual products. They were vague about that one.”
Luca’s gaze finally shifts from mine. A smile stretches across his face as he looks past me.
I follow his line of sight—and see her. That beautiful woman from before.
She looks fierce, unflinching. But when their eyes meet, her features soften. A quiet, shared warmth.
She must be Maleciandro’s mother.
Both his aunt and mother look far too young to have grown children, but I know better than most—women in our world don’t get to choose. Alliances are forged through blood and marriage, often before they’re even grown.
The woman steps forward, her gaze gentle as she takes my arm. She stands so much shorter than me, but I don’t doubt for a second how lethal she must be to stand at Luca Spallo’s side.
“Could you tell me what exactly your sickness is?” she asks softly.
“Is that important?” I blink, thrown off. Shouldn’t we be talking about Diana? About getting the drug? About putting an end to my father?
“Yes,” she says. Even softer. Almost… comforting.
Instead of irritation, her gem-like eyes only grow more patient, waiting for me to understand.
Did my father really know these people? Everything feels so upside down.
“We need to understand his motives,” she explains, her tone quiet, careful, as if she’s handling something fragile. “Why does he hide it. Why could only he obtain it first?”
She’s explaining herself. To me.
I feel the urge to pinch my arm just to check if I’m awake.
Her hand on my arm is warm. Steady.
What is it about this family? Why do they make me feel… human, valued?
I realize she’s still watching me, waiting for an answer.
I clear my throat, trying to find my voice.
I’ve never been allowed to just be myself around people. It’s always been an act. Polished, cautious manners. Always the perfect, silent, obedient girl—especially in front of men.
“When the drug wears off, I start hearing both screams and whispers… so many voices in my head it shuts me off completely. And if I wait too long—”
“Your body crashes. You can’t feel your legs, arms, can’t separate reality from the blur around you.”
She cuts me off, finishing my words. I step back, gasping.
How does she know?
I nod before I can even think.
She doesn’t let go of my hand. But her eyes… that softness is gone. What replaces it is something I know too well—pity.
Before I can speak, she turns to Luca. “I knew it. It’s all my fault…”
Her voice breaks, and her hand on mine starts to shake. Luca moves fast, wrapping her up, catching her before she collapses to the floor. Tears brim at the corners of her eyes, and she presses her face to his chest.
Her fault? My sickness… her fault?
“What’s going on?” My pulse slams in my ears as I dare to place my hand over her trembling grip.
“How do you know about my sickness?”
“Because it’s not a sickness.”
What?
I step closer, needing to look her directly in the eyes. “What do you mean?”
“When did you start taking it?” she pushes, voice sharp now, demanding.
I look around the room frantically. Am I the only one shocked? Do they all know something I don’t?
“The last thing you should do is keep taking that ‘medicine,’” she says again, firmer. The word medicine comes out almost like a mock, as if the idea of calling it that disgusts her.
“My father has given it to me for as long as I can remember,” I manage to choke out. “My mother had the same… sickness.”
Her eyes widen, horror spilling across her face. “Shit.”
She lets go of my arm abruptly. Luca guides her to a nearby sofa, gently lowering her down and holding her tight, not letting her slip away.
It’s not just me now—none of us dares to breathe, afraid the tension might shatter the air itself.
“What’s happening?”
Pedro’s voice slices through the silence as he steps inside the room, casual, almost oblivious.
“I’m here too,” another voice calls. A tall woman strides in, dressed like she just stepped out of a luxury gala—heels, a long, satin pink dress that shimmers with every step.
Chris’s father moves toward her instantly, pulling her into a deep, almost desperate kiss, like they’re the only two people left alive.
She’s Chris’s mom?
She looks older than Bay or Malec’s mother, but still striking, radiant—mid-forties, maybe. Like my mother… before she rotted under that sickness. If she hadn’t decayed, would my father have let her go? Or would he have kept her locked away forever, worshiping her beauty until it vanished?
I tear my gaze away as everyone turns their attention back to Luca and Alin.
“What did I miss? You called me,” Pedro says, glancing between them.
“Alin?” He raises an eyebrow, finally sensing the weight in the room.
So her name is Alin.
“I need you to go get Malec. Bring him back here. Now.”
It’s supposed to be a command, but it sounds more like a plea. Her hand trembles in her lap until Luca covers it with his own, resting her head against his chest.
Wasn’t he called here to help me?
“It’s not your fault,” Luca murmurs into her hair, kissing the top of her head softly. “You couldn’t have known. And thanks to you, we solved a big problem.”
A problem? My problem?
Wait—how is this connected to me?
“I—”
I try to speak, but Alin answers before I can.
“A problem that never would’ve existed if it weren’t for me,” she whispers, swallowing hard, forcing back tears.
“He’s in Kolox,” she continues, turning to Pedro again. “Please, get him back. Quickly.”
Kolox? A code name? A hidden location?
No. I shouldn’t interfere with the business. I’ve learned that the hard way.
I swallow, forcing my voice steady.
“I’m sorry… Alin. But what did you mean about my sickness? Do you have the medicine for me?”
She looks up at me, eyes shining with something unnameable.
“I can get you the medicine,” she says at last.
I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. Relief surges through me—I might stay sane long enough to save Diana.
“But I won’t.”