Chapter 140 AN AFFAIR.
\~~~RAINA.
I couldn't stay there in that cafe a second longer. My mother's words hung in the air like smoke, choking me. Luciano believing my father killed his mother?
Revenge?
It was too much, and it all crashed down at once. I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor, and stood up without a word. Her eyes widened, reaching out like she wanted to stop me, but I turned and walked out. The bell jingled behind me as I stepped into the street, the cool air hitting my face. Cars honked, people rushed by, but I felt numb, like I was moving through water. My heels clicked on the pavement as I crossed back to the office building, my mind racing.
What if it were true? What if everything between Luciano and me was built on this lie? No, I couldn't think like that. Not yet.
I took the elevator up to my floor, the doors closing with a soft ding that echoed in my ears. The hallway was quiet, and I slipped into my office and shut the door, leaning against it for a moment. My desk was a mess, the paperwork still scattered from earlier, but I couldn't focus.
Time dragged on. I tried to pick up a pen and review some reports, but the words were blurred. My thoughts kept circling back to Mom's face, the way she'd said it so matter-of-factly.
Years of history I never knew. I glanced at the clock, and it was 15 minutes until the meeting. I stood and paced the room, my skirt swishing against my legs.
Why hadn't he told me? We'd promised no more secrets after everything but here we were.
The meeting came too soon. Clara knocked and led me to the conference room, where the board members sat around the long table, laptops open. I nodded greetings, taking my seat at the head. They dove into the agenda of quarterly projections, and client updates, but my mind was elsewhere.
Numbers floated by, and voices droned. I nodded at the right times, asked a vague question here and there, but I was completely carried away.
One guy cleared his throat, looking at me expectantly. “Ms. Moretti, your thoughts on the merger?” I blinked, forcing words out.
“Proceed as planned. We will review the risks next week,” They moved on, and I exhaled, relieved no one called me out.
By the end, I was exhausted, my head pounding. The official close was still an hour away, but I couldn't stay. I gathered my things and told my assistant to handle any calls, and left. The elevator ride down felt endless, my reflection in the doors showing pale skin and worried eyes. Outside, the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows. I hailed a cab, giving the driver our home address.
The ride blurred into traffic, and streetlights flickered on early. I stared out the window, replaying Mom's words. 'He married into our family to enact revenge.'
It twisted my gut. Luciano, with his recent gentle touches, and whispers of love had it all been an act?
No. The way he looked at me and ghe the proposal under the stars... that felt real. But doubt crept in, cold and sharp.
The cab pulled up to the house, the familiar driveway lined with trees. I paid and stepped out, the front door looming. My heart raced as I unlocked it, the quiet inside greeting me.
I dropped my bag in the hall and called out softly, “Luciano?” There was no answer.
I went straight to our room first. The bed was neatly made and there was no sign of him.
I turned and headed for the study.
The door was slightly open and I pushed it gently, and the moment I stepped inside, he looked up, his dark eyes lighting up, and that grin spread across his face.
“Sunshine!l he said, his voice warm. He sat up straighter, pushing the chair back.
“I wasn't expecting you for the next hour,” he added, standing and crossing the space between us in two strides. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, the scent of his cologne and faint smoke wrapping around me like a blanket. He kissed the corner of my lips, soft and lingering, his hand on my waist.
“I know, yeah?” I forced a smile, my voice coming out thinner than I wanted. Oh, how much his embrace felt safe.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brow furrowing.
“Are you good?” He noticed immediately, like he always did. Those eyes saw everything.
I breathed out, nodding, but the words caught in my throat. We had promised no secrets, and no walls. After the lies that nearly tore us apart, we had sworn to be open. But someone had broken that first. Him.
I met his gaze, the room suddenly feeling smaller.
“Talk to me,” he said, his hand rubbing my back gently, circles that soothed me.
“Luciano,” I called his name softly, watching his expression shift. The grin faded, replaced by seriousness. He knew this tone, the one for real talks.
He waited, patient, but I could see the tension in his jaw.
“Where is my father?’' The question hung there, direct and sharp.
He pulled gently away from me, his hands dropping to his sides. He breathed out, slow and measured. “Who did you talk to?”
“My mother came over. She told me. Tell me you are not holding him captive.” My voice trembled at the end, hope flickering that he'd deny it.
“I am,” he said, turning to look at me fully. There was no hesitation but only truth in his eyes.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. The room spun a little and I swallowed.
He was holding Dad. My father, the man whom I truly loathed but was still family.
But before I could say anything, he moved over to me again, his hands cupping my cheeks, thumbs brushing my skin. His touch was soft, grounding.
“I know you must be confused, but trust me, this was needed.” His voice was low, pleading almost.
“H... How is this…” I stammered, my mind blanking.
“Your father killed my mother twenty years ago, baby.” The words dropped like stones, heavy and final.
“You are mistaken,” I shook my head, pulling back from his hands. It couldn't be.
Dad was many things. Distant, flawed, but a killer? And Luciano's mother? The pieces didn't fit.
He stepped closer, eyes intense.
“My mother and your father were involved in a romantic affair. She got pregnant, and your father killed her impulsively. I have got all the proof, baby.”
The room felt like it was spinning.
I stared at him, my chest tight, and my thoughts crashing into one another so hard I couldn’t separate them.
My father. His mother. An affair. A pregnancy. Murder.
None of it made sense.
None of it fit the world I thought I knew.