The Devil You Don’t Remember

Lucien’s POV 

“Have you found her?” 

Jamie strides into my office an hour after they leave, his hand tucked into his pocket. “Because I haven’t. It never takes me this long to find anyone and I’ve been at it for days.”

He rubs the back of his neck with a displeased frown and sinks into the chair. He drags it close, slapping his hands on the desk. “One other thing.”

Here it comes. 

His brow arches quizzically. “You didn’t tell me she used to work for the CIA. When I was going to get that piece of information?” He tutts. “You gotta start telling me things, man. I almost walked into a room full of trip wires. Not a room—” he gestures when I tilt my head slowly and my lips flatten, “—but you get what I mean. I could’ve alerted them to my not-so pleasant activities.”

I lean back without a response, folding my arms loosely. 

“So?” He prompts. “Is she under witness protection? Did she kill someone? I asked if you fell in love with her and you brushed it off. What’s going on?”

He’s closer to the truth than I’d like. 

But not as close as I came hours ago…when she walked into my office. 

Maya Serrano. Or rather, Jenna Carr. 

She hadn’t changed. I wasn’t sure what the years would’ve done to her—a decade of hiding away—but I knew before I saw her, that she was the same woman I watched for weeks, her smile brighter than any other and too fierce to ignore. 

Maybe the scar. 

She had a scar on her left cheek that I didn’t recognize the night my hands ran over her body, slowly memorizing every inch. I would’ve felt it, burned it into memory when I cupped her face, kissing her until I couldn’t breathe. 

Because I didn’t want to. 

I didn’t care about anything but her. 

It would’ve come up in the words I whispered as my lips traced her back, my hands sinking into her hips and my thighs pressed against her backside. Surely—I’d have asked questions. I wanted to know everything about her, even though I knew that one night wouldn’t be enough. 

Even though somehow, deep inside, I knew one night was all we had. 

“Yo.” Jamie snaps his fingers close to my face. The corner of my mouth twitches in impatience, but I set it aside. After all, I asked him to look into her. I wasn’t expecting to find her that easily. 

God—I missed her. 

Her scent. 

The flicker of surprise in her eyes when she walked in, the faint crease between her brows—it almost shattered the disguise I’d so hastily put on. 

“Mr. Black.” I spent hours yesterday debating whether to introduce myself to her and the sour-faced man beside her. Part of me wanted to savor the look on her face, the fear that would hollow out her eyes when she realized she had nowhere to run. 

And maybe, just maybe I wanted to know if she still felt it. If one night was enough to forget me.

Jamie huffs and I shake my head, snapping out of my reverie. “You went there again. I’m more convinced that you had something more with her. Something like a torrid affair.” He tilts his chin. “How long did it last? Did you end it when you found out she was working for the Feds?”

“Because,” he smiles, “that was a smart move. Although,” he taps his chin, his brows furrowing in thought. “Maybe that’s why you got arrested? She probably tipped them off. Nah,” he shakes his head, speaking to himself now. “That would mean you brought her to the villa, which is something you’ve never done.”

My chest rumbles with a soft chuckle as I watch him skirt past the truth, hitting the mark and then missing it altogether. 

But he’s right. 

I wouldn’t. I hadn’t brought anyone to the villa, except Jamie, until that night. It was my private space, a retreat from the troubles my father had brought to me. 

“A mistake I don’t plan on making again,” I mumble. 

He snaps to attention, catching my words. His mouth spreads into a knowing grin as he clicks his fingers. “You slept with her, didn’t you? I knew it!” He punches his fist in the air. “I was right. You never ask me to do anything, more less look into someone.”   

As soon as his victory dance begins, it deflates with a sudden realization. Jamie gasps, grabbing the arms of the chair. “You slept with a fed? You knew? You knew that she was working for the feds when you had an affair?” 

Bingo. 

I’d give him that point but I literally drove him there. 

He pushes the chair back, dragging his hands through his hair as he stands. “How could you? I know the rules don’t apply to you, but that was a big risk, man.”  I’m unsure if he’s upset at me or for me, but I had five years to think about Maya’s betrayal, so it doesn’t trip me up anymore. 

Jamie paces my office for another minute, then stops and faces me. He shoots me a pointed look. 

“Was she the one who got you arrested?”

“Would I let someone get that close?” I ask, dryly. 

He bites the corner of his lips, eyes twitching as he tries to read into me. Then he shakes his head, thrusting both hands on his hips. “No, you wouldn’t. It must’ve been someone else. I heard talks about a fight in Barcelona. Something to do with one of your brothers. They must’ve taken it out on you.”

My brothers? 

My spine straightens, although my expression doesn’t betray my thoughts. My half-brothers. I haven’t seen either of them since my father forced them out of the country. I’ve never cared enough to know of their whereabouts either. 

They didn’t want me—and they made it clear too many times. The reminders are still etched into faded white stripes across my back and a backlog of memories buried deep in my subconscious. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

My plan will go on with or without them. 

Jamie mutters something intelligible under his breath as he walks back to the chair, his shoulders sagging as he sits. “What’s done is done. But you’re walking into muddy waters. You should be thinking about meeting your fiancée, getting through a meeting with her father without punching a hole through his teeth. Unless,” he shrugs, “you don’t have any plans on taking over the Moretti foundation.”

My mouth cracks with a thin smile. “Oh, I do. I do, much more than you can imagine.”

…and I have a lot planned for everyone involved. 

“Well then,” he rubs his hands together. “We better get started then. I know that Giuliana Virelli works in the law sector of her family’s business. She’s not a lawyer,” he adds dryly, rolling his eyes, “but her father has her as one of the junior partners.” 

I scoff. “I’m not surprised. I assumed I’d be getting some congratulatory messages at this point, but maybe my father’s decided that he’s getting too old to meddle.”

Jamie’s eyes dart to the side, avoiding my gaze. I know it all too well—that guilty flicker, the tell that gives him away. “You’ve been intercepting them, haven’t you?” I ask. 

He shifts. “Well…”

I see. 

That’s why they haven’t come in droves. If there’s anything that brings people like the Morettis together, it’s a chance to form or change alliances. The Moretti and Virelli families would be unstoppable if they ever joined hands. 

“I should set up a meeting with Giuliana,” he says, perking back up. “You haven’t seen her since—,” he clears his throat, “—your incarceration, so I’m sure a reintroduction is in order. When would you like it to be? Tomorrow or next? A restaurant or somewhere off land?”

I’m not looking forward to it. 

The person I’d rather see has hair that streaks down her shoulders in wild curls and eyes so blue they feel like gazing into the clouds. 

Being with her is the kind of sin that could tempt gods into shedding their divinity, and her skin—hell, it smells like lavender and something far more dangerous.

She’s also the last person I should want near me right now.

“You’re thinking about how to get out of this, aren’t you?” Jamie calls me out. When I focus again, he’s giving me a stern look. “I know your father is the worst person to ever walk this earth, but this belongs to you.”

“I’ve been by your side long enough to know that nobody deserves it more.” His voice rings with conviction. With truth. He slaps his palm down for emphasis. “And I’m not going to let some asshole take it away, even if it means teaching you how to tolerate your fiancée.”

“Fine,” I snap, leaning hard into my chair. “I’ll meet with her. It has to be someone private. I’m not going to deal with hungry, nosy paparazzi.”

He shakes his head and wags a finger to drive the point he’s about to make, home. “Nope. You want the attention. The Virellis aren’t going to honor your father’s attempt to build bridges until it’s obvious that you can’t go back on your word.”

I know what he’s saying, but—

I push against the desk, frowning as I stand. “I can’t,” I say, walking over to the window. 

“Why?” Jamie sighs. “I know you don’t like her, but it’s the only way your father isn’t going to pull some underhanded move to take that seat away from you.” He points to my desk. “And after everything that’s happened, it’s the least you deserve.”

My voice drops into a hardened, low tone. “It can’t happen, Jamie. I need to keep my identity a secret. I don’t want people knowing that I’m out of prison. Except for the ones who already know,” I add, with a careless shrug.   

“Her?” He folds his arms. “It’s her, isn’t it? What’s your plan, then? Hide the truth for as long as possible while you keep looking for her?”

I school my expression quick enough so he doesn’t see the truth. That I know where she is. That she was, hours ago, within my reach.  “Yes,” I say bluntly. “I want to find her. In the meantime, you’re on press duty. I need you to keep my release out of the general public.”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “There’s a bunch of people who already know that you’re back, Lucien. The congratulatory messages?” He tilts his head as his brows jump. “There’s your father too. If you have a plan, you should get started on it as soon as possible.”

My jaw grinds annoyingly. 

My fists curl until my skin stings from my fingernails digging in. “Fine. A month. Think you could handle the media for that long? I’ll need you to keep miles away from anything that has to do with me. I’ll handle my father too—” I hold up a hand, stopping him from asking any more questions. 

“And your fiancée?”

“Tomorrow,” I say briskly. 

My shoulders drop as a tired sigh slips out, trailing after me as I walk back to my desk. The leather chair protests as I sink down and I reach for a document—the closest—flipping it open. 

The corners of my mouth flattens and I tilt my head, staring at Jamie who makes no move to leave. “I’m sure you have better things to do than sit here and keep me company.”

His mouth twitches in a quirky smile. “Maybe? Would it be so bad?”

“Go.” I flick my wrist. “I need to think.”

He drags himself upright, a reluctant look on his face. “I’ll arrange the meeting,” he says as he walks to the door. “You have to show up,” he looks over his shoulder. 

I watch him, saying nothing until the door closes. As it does, silence spilling through the office, I run a hand through my hair, dragging an exhale past my lips. Jamie’s right. 

My father isn’t going to sit around and let me do things in my own time. He’s not going to let me take credit for uniting both families either. And he knows he’s running out of time. 

I have to give him the illusion he’s controlling the narrative while keeping Elena in the dark. I reach for the intercom button, then change my mind at the last minute. 

Pulling up my screen, I send a brief email to my contact in Internal Affairs, my fingers rapidly flying across the screen. 

Then I sit back…and wait.