Chapter 61 LOSING HIS MIND
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AUTHOR’S POV
The tension in Luciano’s study was suffocating. The air was thick with his rage, his frustration, his desperation. Two days. Two fucking days since Adeline had disappeared, and he was unraveling by the second.
His usually calculated mind—his greatest weapon—felt clouded with a storm of emotions he couldn’t control.
He had spent years mastering the art of dominance, of always being three steps ahead. But now? Now he felt like he was walking blindly into the unknown, and it was driving him insane.
His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, his pulse a violent drum against his skin. He couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was her face—the way she looked at him the last time he saw her.
Furious.
Determined.
And then she was gone.
Luciano exhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained fury. He turned his gaze to William, his right-hand man, who stood rigidly near the desk.
William had already told him everything he knew—the description of the car Adeline left in, the failed attempts to track it, the lack of clues.
It wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t fucking enough.
Luciano slammed his fist against the mahogany desk, the force of it rattling the crystal whiskey glass sitting atop it.
“Who the fuck was it?” he growled, his voice dripping with fury.
William remained silent for a moment before exchanging a glance with Christian, who leaned against the window frame, arms crossed.
Christian, ever the level-headed one, finally spoke.
“It wasn’t Asher,” he said.
“I checked. He’s still in New York, handling his own shit. And if it was Elena, we’d already have a ransom demand or some cryptic message. She’s not the type to keep quiet.”
Luciano’s jaw tightened. His mind was racing with possibilities, none of them good.
“Then who?” he demanded.
Christian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“She went happily with that person. That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
“Not fast enough,” Luciano snapped.
He turned on his heel, pacing the length of the room like a caged predator, his body coiled tight with tension.
The only sound was the click of his shoes against the hardwood floor, his mind working through every possible scenario.
William finally spoke, voice measured but cautious.
“We’ve checked all the security cameras in the area. The plates on the car were fake. Whoever took her knew what they were doing.”
Luciano exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. He hated this. He hated not knowing. He hated not being in control.
“She left on her own,” William added after a moment of hesitation. “She… she chose to go with whoever it was.”
Luciano stopped pacing.
The room dropped into a suffocating silence.
Luciano’s head turned slowly, his piercing blue eyes locking onto William with a glare so cold, so deadly, that even William—who had been by his side for years—felt the weight of it.
“You think that matters to me?” Luciano asked, his voice dangerously low.
William swallowed but held his ground. “No, but—”
“Then shut the fuck up and find her.”
The finality in his tone sent a clear message—this conversation was over.
Christian sighed, pushing off the window frame. “You need to think this through, Luciano. If she left willingly, that means she trusts whoever took her.”
Luciano’s teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
Trust?
The word made something ugly twist inside him.
Adeline trusted him. Or at least, she was supposed to.
So why did she leave?
He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the suffocating feeling clawing at his chest.
“Whoever it was,” Luciano said, voice sharp as a blade, “they took her from me. I don’t care if she walked out of that car on her own or if they dragged her out kicking and screaming—she’s mine.”
Christian exhaled. “That’s not how she sees it.”
Luciano shot him a look so fierce that Christian sighed again, shaking his head.
William shifted uncomfortably. “What if it’s someone we haven’t considered? Someone we don’t have on our radar?”
Luciano stilled.
A slow, ice-cold realization began to creep over him.
Someone else was in play.
Someone who had outmaneuvered him.
The thought sent pure, unfiltered rage coursing through his veins.
His grip tightened on the edge of the desk, his nails digging into the polished wood. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him like a vice.
If there was one thing Luciano despised, it was being outplayed.
He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to think instead of react.
His voice was eerily calm when he finally spoke.
“Find her,” he ordered, his tone sharp and controlled.
“Find out who took her. I don’t care what it takes, I don’t care how many people you have to interrogate, threaten, or fucking kill—just bring her back to me.”
Christian and William exchanged another glance before nodding.
Without another word, they turned and left the room.
The second the door clicked shut behind them, Luciano exhaled harshly, running a hand down his face. His pulse was relentless, his body thrumming with adrenaline and rage.
Two days.
Two fucking days.
And whoever took her was going to pay.