Chapter 5 #3
"Sienna." The name hangs in the air between us like smoke from an extinguished candle.
Drake's former assistant, who helped me as well, vanished without a trace a few weeks ago under circumstances none of us have fully explained.
Katriana's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a flash of something, guilt maybe, or concern, flickering across her features before she smooths it away. "You need a replacement."
I lift a shoulder in disagreement, rolling the empty champagne flute between my fingers. "I'm handling things fine on my own."
"Mm-hmm. Yeah. No you're not. The guys might not say anything, but you're drowning.
" Her tone is matter-of-fact, not unkind, her head tilting slightly as she studies my face with unsettling accuracy.
Her gaze traces the shadows I know live beneath my eyes, the tension I can feel carved into the lines around my mouth.
"I can see it written all over your face and the way you've been snapping at everyone who crosses your path. You need help, Luca. Let me help you."
I drag a hand down my face, the scrape of my beard against my palm grounding me. "You're the second person who's told me I look like shit today."
She presses a light touch to my elbow, her fingers warm even through the fabric of my jacket.
The contact is brief but deliberate, a gentle anchor meant to pull me out of the spiral she can clearly see me circling.
"Stop it. The whole pity party born out of stubbornness is kinda cute, but it's getting irritating too.
" Her lips quirk into a half-smile, softening the admonishment, but her eyes remain serious. Steady.
I love her directness. It's one of the reasons Drake fell so hard for her and why the men and I would give our lives to protect her.
Well, that and she's made it a point to care about each one of us.
How can you not give that level of caring back?
We've become family and that is why she feels comfortable pushing me on this topic, I guess.
I consider arguing, but she's not wrong. The administrative burden of running intelligence operations for the Syndicate while also managing Redthorne's legitimate business interests has been crushing me slowly for weeks. I just haven't cared enough to do anything about it.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Glad you asked. She's a who, actually. A friend of a friend." Katriana sips her champagne, watching me over the rim, her narrowed gaze calculating in a way that reminds me she's not just Drake's pretty fiancée, she's just as much of a shark as any one of us.
"Okay."
"I'm going to keep this real so you know what you are dealing with."
"I wouldn't expect anything else."
Her smile is sweet but I've learned to not be caught off guard by it the hard way. Last time I underestimated that smile, I ended up agreeing to three things I had no intention of doing.
"Luna Moone knows someone who's trying to get out from under her father's thumb. She has a business degree, communications training, and she's smart enough to handle whatever you throw at her. You could use her help."
Luna Moone. The name from Ilona's membership file at Scarlet Thorn. The friend who helped her slip into the club undetected. My pulse kicks up a notch, but I keep my expression neutral.
"Got a name for me?" I think I already know the answer, but I have to ask.
Katriana scoffs as if I've insulted her. "Of course I do. Her name is Ilona."
The floor drops out from under me.
I don't move. Don't breathe. Don't do anything that might betray the way my heart has just stopped beating and restarted in a completely different rhythm. The champagne glass suddenly feels impossibly heavy in my hand, the cold condensation dripping down my fingers like ice water.
Ilona. Trying to get out from under her father's thumb.
It can't be coincidence. Fate isn't that kind. But she could be that cruel.
"Give her my number." The words come out steady, which is a fucking miracle. "I'll set up an interview for Monday."
Katriana’s expression morphs from determination to surprise. "Just like that?" Her brows lift, disappearing beneath the soft waves of her brown hair. "You're not going to ask about any of her qualifications? Her references?"
"You said your friend Luna vouches for her?"
Katriana nods. "I've known Luna for a few years. She's good people to have when you want to…accomplish impossible things."
I cock a brow. "I'll ask for that story later but for now, you trust her, I trust her. That's enough for me." The universe just handed me a second chance. I'm not letting it slip away.
I drain my champagne in one long swallow, the bubbles burning my throat, using the motion to hide the trembling in my hands.
"What's her last name?" I already know, but damn it I need to hear it. The odds of this friend of a friend not being my Ilona is slim to none, but my heart needs to confirm out of the five thousand Ilonas in this city, she’s the one.
"Marchetti."
And there it is.
The confirmation I didn't need but somehow still hits like a fist to the solar plexus. My Ilona Marchetti is in trouble and I am about to become her knight in shining armor. A bunch of poetic shit runs through my head, but it all boils down to either Fate trying to help me out or Karma playing games with my heart. It doesn’t matter.
I could say no, sure, but I don’t have the will power to let her get away from me twice.
"Excuse me, Katriana." I lean in and kiss the top of her head, needing a moment to process, to breathe, to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do now. "Give her my number and—" I pause. "You know what? Go ahead and set the interview for Monday. Nine sharp."
Monday. Two days from now. Long enough to not seem desperate. Short enough that I won't lose my goddamn mind waiting.
“Don’t be surprised if she reaches out fast. She’s pretty desperate and wants to get something locked in.”
I force casualness into my tone. “Sure.”
With that, I cross to the windows, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged animal.
The Chicago skyline glitters beyond the glass, all steel and ambition and secrets.
Somewhere out there, she's living her life.
Running from her father. Unaware that the stranger who took her virginity is about to become her boss.
She's trying to escape Enzo's control. Interesting. Daughter and daddy problems. And Fate has delivered her directly to me. Maybe she’s not a bitch after all.
The irony isn't lost on me. I spent eight weeks building a file on her father, planning to use her as leverage against him. Now she's fleeing that same man, and the universe has dropped her into my lap like some kind of cosmic joke.
Or a second chance I have no intention of wasting.
I stare at my reflection in the glass. What do I do with this? Do I tell her the truth? Confess what I intended that night at Scarlet Thorn? Watch the trust in her eyes die?
Or do I give her the job, protect her from her father, and figure out how to be worthy of her before she ever learns what kind of man I really am? Maybe she’ll never find out.
The second option is selfish. Manipulative. Exactly the kind of move the old Luca would make.
But the thought of her looking at me with hatred, of losing her before I've even had a chance to earn her...
I can't. Not yet. Not until I understand what this is. What we could be. Like I said. She never has to find out.
My phone chimes with an incoming message, the vibration traveling up my arm. I glance at the notification absently, still processing the magnitude of what fate has just dropped in my lap.
Then I see the preview.
My entire body goes still.
What the fuck?
The party fades to white noise. The champagne in my stomach turns to ice.
Katriana was right. Ilona didn’t wait.
I open the message, and the world narrows to the image filling my screen.
Ilona, naked, her black hair with its blue tips tumbling over her shoulders like a midnight waterfall.
Her light brown eyes look directly at the camera with an intimacy that stops my heart.
Her body is exactly as I remember, soft curves and olive skin and the kind of beauty that makes men do stupid things.
She's beautifully naked and my hands tingle to touch her again.
But it's the caption that destroys me.
2 months pregnant.
I don't know how long I stand there, staring at my phone, unable to process what I'm seeing. The party continues around me, laughter and clinking glasses and conversations I can't hear over the roaring in my ears. Two months. Two months pregnant. Which means...
Which means it's mine.
The woman I was going to use as leverage against her own father is pregnant with my child.
"I don't know whether I love you, Fate, or fucking hate you, but thank you.
" The whispered words leave my lips before I can stop them.
"And you too, Karma. You sadistic bitch with impeccable timing." The two sisters are working overtime to either punish me or help me. I don’t care as long as Ilona is back in my life. I’ll figure everything else out as I go.
"You look like you've seen an angel and forgot how to speak."
Drake's voice cuts through my paralysis. He appears at my side with a fresh glass of bourbon, the amber liquid sloshing gently as he presses it into my hand with the kind of quiet concern that tells me I look exactly as wrecked as I feel.
I pocket my phone with deliberate slowness, trying to arrange my features into something resembling composure. My jaw aches from clenching. "Am I that obvious?"
"It's how I feel around Katriana." Drake takes a sip of his own drink, watching me with those sharp gray eyes that miss nothing, that have seen me at my worst and my best and everything in between. "Want to tell me what's going on?"