Chapter 285 29

Chapter 285 29

Luca POV

The mansion feels tighter than usual, like the walls are pressing in on all of us. Dante's office is lit only by the screens on his desk, article after article flashing across them, every one with Reyna's face next to Romano's.

Her name is everywhere, paired with his like it's already a done deal, like she belongs to him.

Dante is behind the desk, jaw locked, Ana near the window with her arms folded, and Reyna standing in the middle looking caught between anger and panic.

"This is my fault," Dante says flatly, shoving the laptop shut so hard the sound cracks. "Romano's pushing this because of me. He can't touch me, so he's using her."

Reyna shakes her head, quick, defensive. "No, this isn't on you, Dante. My parents, this isn't new. They've been planning on marrying me off for years, I just didn't know it would be him."

I take a step forward. "And now it is. And it's not just your parents anymore, Reyna, this is Romano. He's been after Dante's head for years, and now he has a way in. You think this is a coincidence?"

Her eyes flash as she turns on me. "Don't you dare stand there and act like I don't understand what's happening. I'm not some pawn who needs you to explain the board to me."

"Really?" I snap back, stepping closer. "Because pawns are the first to get sacrificed, and that's exactly what you're about to be if we don't move you out of Vegas tonight."

Her chin lifts. Stubborn. Always stubborn. "So what? your solution is to lock me away somewhere like I'm property? Like I don't get a say?"

Dante cuts in before I can answer, his voice sharp. "She doesn't need to be locked up, she needs Romano handled, and fast."

I turn on him. "Handled how, Dante? He's protected. The Commission won't let you touch him unless you're ready to burn every rule you swore to uphold."

"Don't lecture me on rules," Dante snaps, moving around the desk, eyes hard. "I built this empire on knowing which rules to break and which to bend. Don't think I won't break him."

The tension spikes like a wire pulled too tight. I don't look away, not even when his fists curl like he's ready to swing.

Reyna's voice cuts through, shaking but steady. "Enough. Both of you."

She's between us now, hands fisted at her sides, chin high. "I'm not running, and I'm not letting either of you decide what happens to me. I'm in this because I chose to be, so stop treating me like I'm something to be passed back and forth."

Her words hit harder than the shouting. For a second even Dante falls quiet.

I start to answer, but then my phone buzzes in my pocket. One short vibration, and it feels heavier than a gun in my hand.

I pull it out. Unknown number.

A single line on the screen:

Midnight. Warehouse 19. Come alone.

My jaw locks. My grip tightens around the phone, and my eyes go straight to Reyna.

Because whoever's sending these messages isn't done.

Reyna POV

Dante and Luca argue like I'm not even in the room, their voices sharp and clipped. Dante says I shouldn't leave the mansion, Luca says I won't, and neither of them bothers to ask what I want.

When Dante finally storms out with Ana, Luca sets his phone down on the desk for half a second. A message flashes across the screen before he grabs it.

Midnight. Warehouse 19. Come alone.

My chest tightens. Another breadcrumb, another secret. And he isn't going to tell me.

He pockets the phone like nothing happened and tells me to stay put. I nod, but my mind is already racing. If he's going to that warehouse, then I'm going too. One way or another, I need to know what's really going on.

Hours later, when the mansion is quiet, I grab my jacket and laptop bag and slip down the back stairs. My heart is hammering but my steps are steady. I've followed trails before, dug into things people didn't want me to see. This is no different.

Except it is.

Because halfway across the dark hallway, I hear it the crunch of gravel outside, the faint squeak of a hinge.

I freeze, turning just as the window shatters inward. Glass sprays across the floor, and a shadow crashes through.

Hands grab me before I can run. One clamps over my mouth, the other yanks me back. My laptop bag rips from my shoulder and my phone clatters against the tiles.

I kick, claw, fight, but the voice at my ear is calm, steady.

"Stop struggling, pretty girl. You're already ours."

The cloth slams against my face, sharp with chemicals, and my body betrays me. My arms weaken, my vision blurs. The last thing I see before everything fades is Luca's door swinging open down the hall-

Too late.