17. Lucas
CHAPTER 17
Lucas
T he worn leather of the punching bag groans under my fists, a rhythmic symphony to match the turmoil in my head. Each jab is weaker than the last; my mind isn't in the fight—it's still with her. It's been days since she vanished like a whisper in the wind, leaving nothing but an echo.
"Lucas, what's going on with you today?" Nora's voice cuts through the haze of my punches, sharp and clear as the bell at the end of a round. Her hands rest on her hips, those blue eyes piercing, seeing too much.
"Nothing." The word is a half-hearted jab at normalcy, as weak as my left hook today.
"Come on," she presses, her investigative skills never missing a beat. I know she does it out of love. "You're swinging like a lovesick teenager, and I haven't seen Sera" —she pauses, considering—"it's been a few days now."
I shrug, trying to keep the fa?ade up, knowing it's futile against Nora's scrutiny. "Just off my game is all."
"Off your game?" She scoffs, unconvinced. "You just won your last fight, Lucas. You're lying through your teeth."
"Really, it's nothing." My eyes dart away, cowardly avoiding the truth in hers.
"Lucas..." Her tone softens, and she steps closer, lowering her voice. "I know you. You don't hide things unless they hurt."
I jab at the air, my fists a blur, but each swing feels like I'm punching through molasses. "Nora, can we just drop it?" My words come out more clipped than I intend.
Nora sighs, stepping back and crossing her arms. Her expression softens as if she recognizes the pain behind my brusque demeanor. "As you wish," she relents, but her eyes still hold a silent promise that this conversation isn't over.
Thanks to Alex's digging, I know where Serafina lives. The Mancini stronghold isn't just a home; it's a fortress, an emblem of the family's influence. As desperate as I feel, I know I can't just show up and ask to see her.
But I need to do something. I can't just sit on my ass, hoping she's safe. Wondering what has her hot one moment and cold the other.
Just as we begin to wrap up for the night, a man with a familiar set of deep green eyes that mirrors Serafina's stands in the doorway. But his eyes are colder, calculating. A chill slips down my spine as our gazes lock. He has the same thick dark hair, though his is slicked back with precision, not wild and free like Serafina's.
"Can I help you, bro?" I ask, squaring my shoulders and puffing my chest out as he steps inside. The air in the gym seems to grow heavier, weighted with something unsaid but clearly ominous.
"Lucas, be careful," Nora whispers behind me, her voice low enough that only I can catch the warning.
"Don't worry about it, just stay behind me," I nudge her behind me as I swagger towards the stranger, never once taking my eyes off him. He's got that unmistakable Mancini vibe.
Everything about him screams 'business' and not the kind that involves membership fees and locker rentals.
"Looking for someone?" I venture, my tone steady despite the adrenaline beginning to course through my veins.
"Yes," he replies, his accent thicker than Serafina's, each syllable measured like the ticking of a clock counting down. "You."