Chapter Twenty

Alicia Pov

The house no longer felt like mine.

That was the first thing I noticed.

Not the silence. Not the way the guards avoided my eyes. Not even the way Luca stood in Dante’s place like a shadow that refused to move.

It was subtler than that.

The house still looked the same. Same marble floors. Same soft lighting. Same smell of polished wood and money.

But it didn’t respond to me anymore.

I stood in the hallway, listening to footsteps upstairs that weren’t coming toward me.

They used to.

When Dante was here, everyone moved when I entered a room. Doors opened faster. Voices dropped. Eyes followed.

Now, I was just… present.

Not central.

Not necessary.

I hated that more than anything.

“Where is he?” I asked the nearest guard.

He hesitated.

Just for half a second.

That was enough.

“Out of town, ma’am.”

Out of town.

I repeated the words in my head.

Dante never went out of town without telling me. Not once in three years. Not for business. Not for blood deals. Not even for funerals.

He controlled everything.

And I controlled access to him.

Until now.

I walked toward his office.

The door was locked.

That was new.

I tried again.

Still locked.

I turned slowly and found Luca standing at the end of the hall, watching me like he’d been there the entire time.

“Since when do you lock me out of his office?” I asked calmly.

“Since he asked me to.”

Of course he did.

“And when exactly did he do that?” I pressed.

Luca didn’t answer immediately. “Before he left.”

Left.

Again, that word.

“He didn’t leave,” I said softly. “Dante doesn’t leave. He vanishes when something is wrong.”

Luca’s eyes didn’t change. But something in his jaw tightened.

“You’re reading into things,” he replied.

“No,” I said. “You’re hiding them.”

Silence stretched between us.

I stepped closer.

“Where is he, Luca?”

He met my gaze. “Safe.”

That wasn’t an answer either.

I studied his face. The slight dark circles. The way his shoulders carried more weight than usual.

“You look like someone who’s been on a long flight,” I said.

He said nothing.

Interesting.

“So he didn’t go to Paris,” I continued lightly. “Or Milan. Or Dubai.”

Luca still didn’t respond.

“He went somewhere far,” I murmured. “Somewhere he doesn’t want me to know about.”

“Drop it, Alicia.”

I smiled.

Not sweetly.

Dangerously.

“You forget something,” I said quietly. “I don’t drop things. I will collect them.”

I turned away from him and walked toward the stairs.

“Elara,” I called out.

Her door opened slowly.

She looked… different.

Not just pregnant.

Calmer.

Softer.

Like someone who had stopped waiting for bad news.

And that, more than anything, irritated me.

“Yes?” she said.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Luca lately,” I said.

Her brows knit slightly. “He just got back.”

From where?

I kept my tone light. “Did Dante tell you where he went?”

She hesitated.

Not long.

But long enough.

“He said he had business,” she replied.

The same lie.

Word for word.

They were using the same script.

I stepped closer, studying her face.

“You look rested,” I said. “Happy, even.”

Her hand moved unconsciously to her stomach.

There it was.

The tell.

Not fear.

Not confusion.

Relief.

Dante had done something.

Something big.

Something serious.

And only two people in this house knew about it.

Elara wasn’t afraid.

Which meant Dante wasn’t in danger anymore.

Which meant whatever he had gone to do

had worked.

That realization hit harder than jealousy.

Because it meant he’d solved something without me.

I smiled again. “I’m glad you’re well.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Luca stepped in then, placing himself slightly between us.

Like a shield.

That was new too.

“I think Elara needs rest,” he said calmly.

I tilted my head. “Since when do you manage her schedule?”

“Since I was asked to.”

By Dante.

Always Dante.

Everything now was Dante.

But Dante wasn’t here.

And that was the problem.

I stepped back, lifting my hands. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to stress her out.”

I turned to Elara again. “If Dante calls, tell him I stopped by.”

She nodded.

Too quickly.

I left the room and walked downstairs, my heels echoing through the house that no longer bowed to me.

In the living room, I pulled out my phone.

I dialed Dante’s number.

Straight to voicemail.

Again.

I tried his private line.

Disconnected.

That line had never been disconnected.

Not even once.

I stared at the screen.

Slowly, carefully, I opened my contacts and scrolled.

Then I dialed someone else.

“Caruso Aviation,” a voice answered.

“This is Alicia Valenti,” I said smoothly. “I need Dante’s last flight records.”

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. That information is restricted.”

“By who?”

“By Mr. Caruso himself.”

I smiled.

Of course it was.

I ended the call and stood up.

So.

He was blocking me.

Not avoiding.

Blocking.

That meant intention.

That meant planning.

That meant whatever he’d done

he didn’t want me anywhere near it.

I walked back toward his office and placed my palm against the locked door.

“You think you can shut me out,” I whispered. “But you forget who taught you how to lock things in the first place.”

I turned and headed toward the security wing.

The cameras.

The logs.

The flight schedules.

The medical staff.

Someone always talked.

You just had to ask the right way.

Or threaten the right thing.

Later that night, I sat in my room, staring at the city lights outside the window.

I replayed everything.

Luca’s silence.

Elara’s calm.

The disconnected lines.

The locked office.

Dante had gone somewhere far.

Not for business.

Not for pleasure.

Not for me.

For himself.

And whatever it was

it had changed him.

I felt it.

The house felt it.

Even Elara felt it.

Which meant I was the only one left in the dark.

And I hated the dark.

Because I didn’t know what was waiting in it.

But I knew one thing.

Dante hadn’t told me the truth.

And when powerful men start lying

it’s never about something small.

I picked up my phone again and typed one message.

To my private investigator.

Find out where Dante Caruso went.

Don’t ask why.

Just find him.

I sent it.

Then I leaned back against the chair and let out a slow breath.

The war hadn’t started.

Not yet.

But something had shifted.

And for the first time since I met Elara, I didn’t feel jealous.

I felt threatened.

Because whatever Dante had done without me

had given him something back.

And whatever it was…

he had brought it back to her.

Not to me.