The Consigliere He Couldn't Keep

Silence settled over the parking lot.

Not the peaceful kind. But the kind that pressed against your ribs until breathing hurt.

Sienna stood beside Chase, pale as marble, her eyes shimmering with tears she refused to let fall.

I looked from one to the other. "What is this?"

Then Chase stepped forward. Without hesitation, he reached for Sienna's hand. Their fingers laced together.

"I was going to tell you," he said softly. "I just... kept waiting for the right moment."

His jaw tightened. "That night, we were both out of our minds drunk. And it just happened."

"I should've told you sooner. You deserved the truth."

I stared at their hands. My vision blurred.

I'd just gotten off a six-hour flight. My suitcase was still at my feet. And this is what was waiting for me.

My knees buckled, and I nearly lost my footing.

Chase caught the movement instantly.

"Claire." He reached for me.

I stepped back before he could touch me. "Don't."

"Claire..." Sienna looked like she was about to fall apart. "You skipped dinner on the plane again, didn't you?"

"Is your low blood sugar acting up?" She held out a chocolate bar."Here you go."

I stared at the chocolate bar. Suddenly, I wasn't sure I believed anything Sienna said anymore.

"Please. Don't make this any harder." I forced my voice to stay calm."I’m not making a bloody scene in public."

I grabbed my suitcase and walked away.

I didn't look back. The cold night air nipped at my face, blowing away the bitter dampness at the corners of my eyes.

By the time I reached our townhouse, the city was already glowing beneath the evening lights.

Sienna's luggage sat beside the front door. She stood next to it, twisting her fingers together. Like a child waiting to be forgiven.

My eyes swept across the foyer. The matching designer slippers. The custom velvet throw pillows on the couch embroidered with our initials.

Home. Or at least... what I had believed was home.

My stomach twisted. I couldn't stop imagining them here.

Laughing. Drinking. Falling into each other on the very couch we'd picked out together.

The nausea hit so fast I almost doubled over. I dropped my suitcase onto the floor. Inside were gifts I'd brought back from Milan.

The pistachio biscuits Sienna had begged me to buy, alongside a custom-tailored leather holster I’d brought back for Chase.

I remembered Sienna video-calling me weeks ago, flashing a innocent smile.

"I have a good news, Chase pulled some strings and got me the job."

"Could you buy me those biscuits? I’ve been craving for months."

I stared at the gifts for a long second. Then I threw every last one of them into the trash.

Even the pillows from the couch.

Sienna gasped. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Chase stepped in front of her. "This isn't on her."

His eyes never left mine. "If you're angry, take it out on me."

Then he turned toward Sienna. His voice softened. "Wait outside."

Sienna looked at me. Then at Chase. Finally, she picked up her suitcase and left.

The front door clicked shut.

Chase rubbed a hand across his face. "I'm sorry, Claire."

No excuses. No lies. Just those words. I wish he could explain more.

"I've already talked to my father. The seat on the Commission will be yours."

"You'll have everything you've worked for."

As the sole heir to the Moretti empire, he didn't just make promises,he dealt in power.

I almost laughed. "What’s that supposed to be? Compensation? Or charity? I don't need your handouts."

Chase’s face darkened instantly. "You’re always like this. Acting like there’s nothing in this world you can’t handle on your own. Claire, I am your boyfriend. Why can’t you just rely on me the way Sienna does?"

I cut him off, "Ex-boyfriend."

I locked eyes with him, cold and unyielding. "And Sienna needs you because she’s weak. She can't survive without someone to lean on."

"I don't. Anything I want in this world, I earn it myself."

Chase stared at me with a complex, unreadable look in his eyes. "If that’s the case, take care of yourself, Claire."

He turned around and closed the door behind him. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye.

The massive house fell dead silent. I was left entirely alone.

The strength drained from my body all at once.

I collapsed onto the sofa, cold sweat breaking out across my forehead from the searing pain in my stomach.

I curled into myself, struggling to breathe.

"...Damn it." I squeezed my eyes shut. "My stomach... It hurts."

I found a bottle of stomach pills and swallowed one dry.

Then I lay back on the bed.

My fingertips brushed over the faded scars scattered across my body. Bullet wounds. Knife wounds. Shrapnel burns.

Every one of them had been earned fighting for the Moretti Family.

I had given them everything I had.

I didn't owe anyone another piece of myself.

Just seven more days.

Then I'd leave this place behind.