Chapter 140 I found her.
CHAPTER 140
I found her.
ROMAN – POINT OF VIEW
I watch Adeline and Scarlett get in the car.
Did she really think I wouldn’t recognise my hotel? Rivering Heights is the first luxurious hotel I built. I didn’t buy the building. I brought in top architects to draft out every inch for me. I was intentional about the hotel, and now, it’s a haven for cheating politicians and drunken mistresses.
She really thought she could hide it from me? She is an amateur at this game.
“Found anything on Carmichael?” I ask Bastian, hand on his shoulder as he worked.
“Not yet, sir, but he’s still in the city. I will know the second the traffic light picks him up, and if he turns up at any airport. I doubt that, though.” He answers, working on his laptop.
“You doubt that?” Damian frowns.
Of course, I had to bring Damian, Elena and Caleb in. This isn’t going to end well, and we need to be ready for it. We are putting measures in place, so when it eventually blows over, we will be unaffected. Nothing is stopping my construction deal.
“He is here for a reason, and that reason has not been revealed yet. He has shown his hand too early, but he will be back; something just has to lure him out.” Bastian looks up, adjusts his glasses and gets back to work.
“What do you mean? Speak freely.” Luca snaps, on edge.
Our women are rocking the boat. Isn’t it odd that I still consider Scarlett my woman even after everything? What will she have to do to make me reject her? I’m not quite sure that is possible.
I glance at my phone, satisfied to see they are on the move.
Bastian sighs, “If … If Roman and Scarlett are to announce their wedding date, let’s say, in a two-week gap, or ten days, it’ll rock the boat, capsize even, cut down on the time he believed he had, and he’ll have to rush whatever he’s doing. He is obviously here to do more than rock the boat, so show him that you are not afraid, that you don’t care. Keep him busy. Distract him while I pull his financials and more.”
I look at Luca, then everyone else.
“The wedding date thing can work.” Elena pulls out her tablet.
“Hm,” I muse, wound tight.
Would we have to get married finally, or would we keep playing as we have played for the past eight months? I don’t ask, though. I keep my impatience to myself. We are looking into Scarlett, yet I can’t hide my excitement at the thought of finally tying the knot. How ridiculous.
“Do you want to ask her about it, or do I carry on?” Elena asks me.
I frown, pondering. My phone beeps, and it’s Scarlett. She is in a supermarket. She sent a picture with a text attached – hope your mom has a sweet tooth. Bye, baby. Love you.
A mistake.
It is obviously a mistake.
It has to be.
She does not love me. She can’t love me, just as I cannot love her, either. There’s a difference between being unable to do something and making sure that thing isn’t done. Love wasn’t part of the agreement.
I look at Elena and nod, “Do it. Don’t tell her about it. Nothing leaves the four walls of this room.”
She hesitates for one second, but nods. She walks out, way out of my reach, and I cannot stop her. The wheel is turning, and nothing can stop it.
“I was up all night trying to find out anything I could on her time in Oxford.” Bastian begins, calling our attention.
“Shouldn’t you be working on the financial trail?” Caleb frowns at him, ever the money guy.
“The software is running in the background,” Bastian responds.
“Did you find anything worthwhile?” Luca goes straight to the point.
“I’m not suure. I dug into old Oxford records for Scarlett Brooks, and I found nothing. All the Scarlets and Brooks are different people, definitely not her, so I switched her last name for something else, from Italian like Russos to French, Spanish, African, every surname you can think of, I covered it.” Bastian murmurs, pulling his hair in frustration.
“Did you try Scarlett … Scarlett Perez?” Luca leans forward.
Bastian tries it immediately. The computer is fast, and in seconds, we have our answers. We look through the date, and none of these women is Scarlett.
“Try Ramirez., I say, remembering her accent. She has to be Mexican or Spanish.
He does, and it’s another dead end.
“Garcia?” Caleb offers, watching with his arms folded.
“Not her.” Bastian shakes his head.
“Let’s switch the first name then, try Isabella Brooks.” I roll up my sleeves, desperately ignoring the pit of guilt in my stomach.
“Juanita.” Luca offers, but it’s not right.
“If she’s Mexican, then it won’t be so easy to find. Why don’t we mix countries? Luca is Italian, so an Italian surname, and what?” Damian frowns.
The door opens, and Elena walks in.
“Try Elena.” I blurt, heart pumping too fast.
Bastian hesitates. “E … Elena, what?”
“Brooks? Could be on the nose.” I murmur, hand on my chest.
There are a lot of Elena Brooks, but none of them is Scarlett.
We do this for the next twenty minutes and even make a game out of it. We don’t find her, but we don’t stop. She went to Oxford. She studied International Relations. She was there. We are so close, and I can feel it.
“Elena Russo,” Luca suggests, and we get nothing.
“Elena Calderón?” Caleb suggests cautiously, and I look at him.
Blood rushes to my head.
The thought of Scarlett being married to Emiliano makes me want to die.
She cannot betray me like that. She won’t. She’s mine, here and now.
“Ricci.” Damian offers quickly.
Bastian types, and my phone beeps. It’s a text from Scarlett, but my gaze catches on to the computer, and I freeze.
We found her.
“Oh, my God.” Elena gasps.
Scarlett. She went to Oxford as Elena Rossi.
I stare at her picture, hands in my pockets, and an ache in my heart. She looks so young, and fucking beautiful. Her eyes are brighter, and her hair is dyed light green. A wildfire. She’s smiling so wide, a book in her hand, and a pair of pink sunglasses in her hair. She looks so young, so innocent, untainted.
My knees weaken, and I am flooded with so many emotions.
What happened to her? Who hurt her? What made her change? Who is she? Elena Rossi or Scarlett Brooks?
“She looks so young.” Damian murmurs.
My phone rings, and it’s her.
I pick it immediately, my heart in my throat.
“Hey, baby.” She says, giving me a glimpse of the person she used to be.
“Hi, darling.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
“We just got to your mom’s place, and her house is so beautiful. I think I want something cosy like this …”
I’ll give her anything she wants. I’ll give her everything.