Lucia’s POVGabriel turned to leave, like we’d just finished some sick business deal. Like that was it.I took a shaky breath, the taste of smoke and adrenaline still coating my tongue. “Wait—” My voice cracked. “What about my father?”He paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with a flicker of amusement. “You really think you’ll be seeing him anytime soon?”My heart stuttered.“We had a deal,” I said, louder this time, desperation creeping in. “I gave you the drive.”He smiled, slow and cruel. “And I didn’t kill him. Yet.”Yet.I took a step forward, fists clenched. “Where is he?”“Don’t bother,” he said, voice like ice. “You won’t be seeing him for a long time.” Then he turned and walked away without a glance back.A low growl of an engine caught my ear. I turned just in time to see headlights flare in the distance. A black van, no plates, speeding off down a dirt road that cut through the trees behind the warehouse. The door swung open, and for a split second, I saw a figure i
Lucia’s POVMy chest locked. Like someone had knocked the air from my lungs.I’d left him in the garden minutes ago, and he was okay.Now? He was screaming. Begging. Breaking.It didn’t make sense… none of it did.I stood frozen outside Dante’s gate, my phone dangling in my hand, my mind blank.No. No, no, no.This couldn’t be happening.And then, like the universe was mocking me, the same number flashed across my screen again.UNKNOWN CALLER.I hesitated—just a second too long—before I swiped to answer. “Hello?”A low distorted voice answered. “If you hand that drive to Dante Romano, your father is dead.”My tongue felt thick and useless. Every word got stuck behind my teeth as a cold film of sweat gathered at the back of my neck. “Who is this? What do you want—?”“You have one chance to save him,” the voice snapped. “Bring every copy of the evidence. Alone. No games. No Dante. If you defy us, he dies screaming.”The call ended.My hand dropped to my side, the phone sliding from my f
Lucia’s POVI didn’t breathe.Not for a second, not for a sound. Every nerve in my body locked down like a vault, as the footsteps drew closer… heavier… slower.He moved like someone who wasn’t in a hurry, like he didn’t need to be.I could see his boots from beneath the desk. Scuffed leather, dust-caked soles. A heavy set. The kind of man who didn’t just walk into rooms—he took them.Then I heard it.The soft clack of the keyboard.He’d seen it.Shit. Shit.The laptop. I’d left it on.I shut my eyes, swallowed the panic like it could drown in my throat. Every second stretched into forever as he mumbled something in Russian under his breath.. low, and sharp.Another footstep. He was turning.I clenched my fists, ready to run or fight or scream if I had to. If I died, I wasn’t going down quiet.But then—A thump. A soft, living mewl.He turned.It was a cat.Grey, skinny, tail flicking like it owned the place. It leapt up onto the windowsill, knocked over a mug, and looked straight at
Lucia’s POV311 Edgewater Boulevard didn’t look like a place where answers lived.The building was old, bruised by time and neglect. The metal railing along the porch was rusted. Lights in the hallway flickered like they were clinging to life. But the door wasn’t locked.I slipped inside.I was told to “ask for M,” but what if it was a setup? The smell hit first—dust, cheap cologne, old electricity. A mess of wires, drives, and two crooked monitors were scattered across the desk. Whoever lived here didn’t believe in organization. Or safety.I spotted a folder on the desk, unlabeled, and a worn laptop sitting open in sleep mode. I tapped the spacebar.Locked.Of course.My chest tightened with panic. I didn’t have time.. What if someone caught me?I yanked open the desk drawer, rifled through pens, old receipts, nothing useful. Then I dropped to my knees and felt along the underside of the keyboard.Please. Please.My fingers grazed the edge of a sticky note. I pulled it off, squintin
Lucia’s POVVincenzo.My stomach dropped the moment I opened the door and saw him standing there like a storm in a designer coat—tailored, smug, dangerous. His hair was slicked back, his sharp jaw dusted with stubble, and his eyes… God, his eyes were as dead as I remembered. Cold. Calculated.He looked like a man who had come not to visit, but to ruin something.“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, voice low and sharp. “How did you find this address? Who let you in?”Vincenzo cocked his head, amusement flickering in his eyes like a match being struck. “I have my ways,” he said smoothly. “Or did you forget who I am?”“And who are you?” I snapped, heart pounding with fury and something darker.He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his voice dropping like poison in honey.“The man who knows how to make ghosts talk,” he murmured.I narrowed my eyes. “What?”“Dante pulled a stunt on me,” he said smoothly, like it was just another line in a business report. “Some shady little
Lucia’s POV***Flashback***We were back in Chicago for the summer holidays. I’d just gotten into another fight with my parents over Daniel, and this time I didn’t stick around to finish it. I stormed out of the house, grabbing my phone with trembling hands.Daniel picked up on the first ring.“Babe?” His voice was sleepy but alert. “What’s wrong?”“Can I come over?” I asked, already walking. “I just—need to get out of here.”“I’ll meet you halfway. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”He didn’t ask for details. He never did, not until I was ready.When I saw him under the streetlamp, I ran.He didn’t hesitate. He pulled me into his arms like I was something precious. Like I wasn’t full of rage and shame and disappointment. His hands moved up and down my back, steady and grounding.“Breathe,” he whispered into my hair. “I’ve got you.”We ended up at the beach, barefoot in the sand, the wind kissing salt into our skin. I told him everything. How my mother thought he wasn’t enough. How my