Chapter Fourteen
Belle
I tried not to gawk like a tourist as Dario guided me through the revolving doors of High Tower.
After two weeks of being sequestered at Villa Luca, this excursion to the heart of his business empire felt both liberating and terrifying.
The suit jacket he'd insisted I wear hung perfectly on my frame, courtesy of the wardrobe that had mysteriously appeared in my closet, but no amount of designer clothing could mask how utterly out of place I felt.
Dario's hand rested at the small of my back, warm and possessive, as we crossed the threshold into a world where he was king and I was merely a curiosity.
The lobby stretched before us, a cathedral of wealth and power.
Polished black granite floors reflected the morning light streaming through the glass walls, creating an illusion of infinite space.
To my right, water cascaded down a three-story wall, the gentle roar providing acoustic privacy for the clusters of well dressed professionals conducting hushed conversations in plush seating areas.
"Impressed?" Dario murmured, his lips close to my ear.
"It's beautiful," I admitted, resisting the urge to reach for his hand like a child needing reassurance. "Makes The Gray look almost modest."
He smiled, a rare expression that transformed his severe features into something dangerously charming. "The Gray is meant to feel intimate. This—" he gestured to the soaring space around us, "—is meant to intimidate."
"Mission accomplished," I whispered, earning another smile.
We crossed the lobby toward a bank of elevators guarded by a security desk.
The man stationed there straightened immediately upon seeing Dario, nodding respectfully without checking the identification badge clipped to Dario's lapel.
His eyes flickered to me with barely concealed curiosity before returning to a carefully neutral expression.
"Good morning, Mr. Luca," he said. "Your guests have already arrived in the conference room."
Dario's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "I wasn't expecting guests this morning, Anthony."
"Mr. Chambers called an hour ago. Said it was urgent."
I felt Dario's hand tense against my back. "I see."
The elevator doors opened silently at his approach. Once inside, he pressed his thumb to a fingerprint scanner before selecting the top floor. As the doors closed, sealing us in the mirrored box, he turned to me with a troubled expression.
"I need to take this meeting," he said, clearly displeased. "It won't be long, but..."
"I'll be fine," I assured him, though I wasn't entirely convinced. Two weeks in his fortress the Luca’s called home had lulled me into a false sense of security, but the intensity of his protection reminded me daily of the danger Vincent Rossi supposedly represented. Dario even took care of my bills while I wasn’t working.
So I honestly had nothing else to think about other than Rossi. "I can wait in your office."
Dario shook his head. "The meeting's in my office. Marcus will meet you in the executive lounge. I’ll close it down so you have it to yourself."
"I'm a big girl, Dario," I said, summoning more confidence than I felt.
"I can entertain myself for an hour. Besides, Marcus isn't here.
" The elevator chimed as we reached our destination.
"I could get us coffee from that café in the lobby?
You look like you could use it before your surprise meeting. "
He hesitated, clearly torn between his responsibilities and his reluctance to let me out of his sight. "Stay in public areas," he finally said. "Don't leave the building. I'll text when I'm finished."
The doors slid open to reveal a hushed corridor of muted grays and polished wood. A woman in a tailored dress approached immediately, her expression carefully neutral though her eyes widened slightly at the sight of me.
"Mr. Luca, the board is waiting. Mr. Chambers is quite insistent."
Dario nodded once. "I'll be right there, Sarah." He turned to me, his voice dropping. "One hour. Don't talk to anyone you don't know."
"Yes, sir," I replied, trying for light teasing and achieving something closer to nervous acquiescence. "I'll bring you that coffee."
His fingertips brushed my cheek in a fleeting caress before he stepped away, instantly transforming into the formidable businessman everyone else saw.
I watched him stride down the corridor, back straight, shoulders set in a line of authority that brooked no argument.
Even in this building where the most powerful people in the city did business, everyone deferred to Dario Luca.
I rode the elevator back to the lobby alone, using the time to steady my nerves.
This was the first time I'd been truly alone since the night Dario had brought me to Villa Luca.
A constant rotation of staff, security, and Luca family members had ensured I was closely watched.
The freedom, however brief, felt both exhilarating and unsettling.
The café occupied a corner of the lobby, its marble counters and brass fixtures gleaming under artfully arranged lighting. The line moved efficiently, staffed by baristas who worked with practiced skill. I joined the queue.
As I waited, the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filled my senses. The clientele around me exuded the same aura of wealth and privilege that permeated the entire building.
That's when I noticed them. Two men in dark suits stood near a decorative column. Unlike the other patrons, they weren't engaged in conversation or absorbed in phones. They watched. And specifically, they watched me. Neither man looked familiar to me and that spiked my alarm.
I turned away quickly, my heart rate accelerating.
Paranoia. Two weeks of Dario's warnings about Vincent Rossi had me jumping at shadows.
They were probably just security. Or waiting for someone.
Or admiring the attractive barista. By the time I ordered and received our coffees, I'd almost convinced myself I was overreacting.
I balanced the cups carefully as I made my way back toward the elevators, focusing on not spilling the expensive beverages on my even more expensive clothes.
I was halfway across the lobby when one of the suited men stepped directly into my path.
I stopped abruptly, coffee sloshing against the lid.
"Excuse me," I said automatically, attempting to step around him.
He didn't move. "Ms. Belle," he said quietly. "You'll need to come with us."
Cold dread washed through me. I took a step backward and bumped into something solid — the second man — now standing directly behind me. "I don’t know you." I said, my voice higher than normal. "Mr. Luca is expecting me back in his office."
The first man smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. "No mistake. Mr. Rossi would like a word."
I dropped both coffee cups, the hot liquid splattering over the glossy floor, and tried to sprint away.
One of the men snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me hard against him, my back to his chest. The scuffle drew glances from nearby patrons, but no one moved to help.
I opened my mouth to scream, but the man behind me pressed something hard against my lower back.
"Not a sound," he murmured against my ear. "Walk toward the service exit. Now."
I stumbled forward as he gripped my upper arm in a bruising hold.
Terror froze my thoughts as he steered me toward an unmarked door.
My eyes darted desperately around the lobby.
A security guard stood twenty feet away, his back turned.
A woman on her phone glanced at me, then away. Was that a smirk on her face?
I glanced around wildly, looking for a security camera I could make sure to look at directly. Once Dario realized I was missing, he’d have his security people looking for me. If for no other reason than to keep his new toy. Dario Luca absolutely would not let anyone take something belonging to him.
We reached the service door, and the second man pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit corridor.
The moment we crossed the threshold, my survival instinct kicked in.
I twisted violently, driving my elbow into the ribs of the man behind me.
He grunted but didn't release me. Instead, his arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me off my feet as I kicked and struggled.
"Enough," the first man hissed, producing a cloth from his pocket. He grabbed my jaw roughly, forcing my head still as he pressed the fabric against my face.
A sweet, chemical smell filled my nostrils. I held my breath, thrashing wildly, but eventually my lungs burned for air. When I finally gasped, the chemical flooded my system. The corridor tilted and spun around me, lights blurring into streaks of color.
My last conscious thought was of Dario's face, the way he'd looked at me that morning as I'd dressed in clothes he'd provided, in a room in his house, behind walls he'd sworn would keep me safe.
Darkness closed in from all sides as I felt myself being carried, my limbs heavy and unresponsive. A door opened. Cold air hit my face. The sound of an engine. Then nothing.
***
Dario
I checked my watch again, irritation prickling at the back of my neck.
Belle should have returned with the coffee twenty minutes ago.
The executives droned on about shit I cared nothing about but helped them feel necessary in the grand scheme of things, oblivious to my growing discomfort.
Something felt wrong. I'd spent decades honing my instincts, and right now they screamed with warning.
My phone remained silent, no message from Belle.
No call from Marcus, who should have been headed her way.
I was about to excuse myself when the double doors crashed open, and Marcus burst in, his typically unflappable demeanor shattered.
One look at his face told me everything.