Silent echoes of grace

Lucas's pov

I should have left. I had a chauffeur waiting,a schedule full of billion - dollar choices - but I couldn't leave. Not when I caught a glimpse of her through the window, holding her sister like she was holding the last bits of herself together. Lucia Moretti wasn't just shattered - she was hurting from within, and something about that quiet hurt made it quite hard for me to leave.

After their hug, she stood at her sister's bedside,her fingers dabbing a damp cloth over the child's forehead. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun,strands framing her face. I chuckled to myself. She always fails to notice me.

I coughed,loud enough to catch her attention.

She looked startled, like a deer in headlights.“Ahh…Mr.Marano again..”

“I was just about to take my leave,” I said, nodding towards the exit.

“I just wanted to properly say my goodbyes.”

Her face fell, just a little.“You have my thanks…for your help. I still don't understand your reasons, but…thank you.”

“You don't need to understand,” I said.

“Just do your best to make sure she gets better.”

Lucia's arms folded around her, her voice a whisper. “She's all I have.”

Her words lingered in the air like the smell of antiseptic - sharp and painful.

I moved forward, closer to her. “You make me remember someone. Someone I lost.”

“My sister. She used to be a ballerina.” I didn't speak more. It simply wasn't the time. “Anyway.. goodbye, Lucia.”

She nodded slowly, lips parted like she wanted to speak some more. But there were no words.

I gave her a curt, respectful nod and walked out.

I didn't look back.

But I bet she won't forget me.

The city outside lit up like nothing had happened, but something in me felt different. I undid my ties as my chauffeur drove away from the hospital, the cold leather of the backseat offered little comfort.

“Your destination,Mr.Marano?”

Cassius asked from the driver's seat.

“Marano holdings. And call Adrian. I need all we can find on someone. Lucia Moretti.”

Cassius didn't argue. He would never.

Three hours later, I was in my corner office, its intricate windows showing the skyline like a work of art. But I wasn't focused on the view.

Adrian entered, tablet in his grip, his face blank. “You requested a background check on Lucia Moretti.”

I motioned for him to speak.

He flipped open a file. “ She's twenty five. Formerly a professional ballerina - a global prodigy. Danced in New York, London,and Paris. Headlines from about two and a half years ago. She was arguably one of the best.”

I looked up, shocked. “She didn't tell me any of that.”

“There's a lot more,” Adrian continued.

“She was the wife of Matt Richards.”

The name knocked me out of breath.

Matt. My best friend.

I laughed at myself mentally…to think I was hiding Lucia from him, when he knew her very personally.. to put it mildly.

But Adrian didn't notice my reaction as he continued again. “Their divorce was finalized about a year plus ago after a very public scandal. Headlines blamed her for destructive behavior, missed performances and a meltdown on stage. Her career went downhill after that. No charges. No police business. Just silence.”

I snatched the tablet from him and scrolled. The pictures were jarring. Lucia mid twirl,her face glowing with happiness and passion. In the next photo, she curtseyed low before the crowd,her eyes shining.

And then the final photo - Lucia outside a courthouse, sunken eyes and ruined makeup. The headline said: "Ballet's Brightest star Burns out in public meltdown.”

The article was cruel, heartless.

I gripped the tablet tighter.

“I'm sure she doesn't even know that I know Matt,” I sighed.

“She obviously doesn't,” Adrian snorted.

“You've always been a shadow,boss.”

“Don't speak of this to anyone, not even Cassius.”

“Yes,boss.”

Adrian left. I stared out at the city once more - but now the view was icy, like glass against my skin.

I really shouldn't care.

But here I am. Caring.

Lucia's softness wasn't a weakness. It was a cry for help buried under silence.

And now I knew she was once a part of the world of grace,stages and beauty - just like Clara.

No wonder the way she carried herself, even after everything,felt regal. She didn't let the world destroy her totally. At least not yet.

I recalled the way she covered Sophia, shielding her like a tigress but she was sinking slowly.

And no one cared.

But I did.

I slipped back into my sofa, clutching a stress ball.

Matt had never mentioned her name before. Not in all the years that we've been friends which means either he'd forgotten her..or he had buried her somewhere deep.

My phone rang but I shoved it aside. I was in no mood to take business calls.

I had a gut feeling that there was more to her fall than what the world knew.

I'd seen Matt twist media narratives before and suddenly, I wasn't sure who the bad guy was in their story but I was going to find out for myself.