Chapter 37 Black Diamond
The bedroom was bathed in the soft, lazy gold of late morning sun, the kind that slipped through half-closed shutters and pooled across the rumpled silk sheets like melted honey.
Elena lay curled in the center of the bed, drowning in one of Lucas’s oversized black shirts sleeves falling past her fingertips, hem brushing the tops of her thighs.
She slept peacefully, face half-buried in his pillow, lips slightly parted, dark lashes fanning against flushed cheeks.
Her breathing was slow and deep, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only movement in the quiet room.
Lucas, however, was wide awake.
He sat propped against the headboard, laptop balanced on his thighs, one hand typing emails and scrolling through security reports while the other never stopped stroking her hair slow, rhythmic passes from crown to nape, fingers threading through the soft strands like he was afraid to stop.
He hadn’t slept much.
He never did when the shadows in his mind grew too loud.
But having her here safe, warm, breathing against his side quieted most of them.
The antique clock on the mantel struck ten, soft chimes floating through the room like a gentle reminder.
Lucas closed the laptop with a quiet click and set it aside.
He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“Baby, wake up,” he murmured, voice low and warm.
“You need to attend your class, and you haven’t eaten anything. Come on.”
Elena made a small, protesting sound half whine, half sigh and burrowed deeper into his side, face nuzzling his ribs.
“You ate me whole last night,” she mumbled sleepily, voice thick and teasing, “now you’re not letting me sleep. Bad manners, husband.”
Lucas’s low chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against her cheek.
“Then who was the one begging for more?” he asked, fingers sliding down to trace the curve of her spine beneath his shirt.
“‘Harder, Luca don’t stop ’”
She groaned, hiding her burning face against him.
“It’s your wife’s fault for being so irresistible. But right now… I’m your baby. Let me sleep.”
He smiled soft, indulgent, the kind of smile he saved only for her.
“But you’ll scold me if you get late for class.”
Elena rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, peeking up at him with sleepy mischief.
“You deserve it,” she said, voice still husky from sleep.
“You’re becoming more of a beast in bed day by day…”
Lucas’s eyes darkened instantly, heat flickering behind the tenderness.
“And you love it,” he growled softly, leaning down to nip at her earlobe.
She shivered, a small, breathless laugh escaping her.
“Guilty.”
He kissed her then slow, deep, morning-lazy tasting toothpaste and sleep and the sweetness that was only hers.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, voice dropping to a whisper.
“Five more minutes. Then you eat. Then you go to class. Deal?”
“Ten,” she bargained, snuggling closer, leg hooking over his hip.
“Seven.”
“Eight.”
He sighed dramatically, but the smile in his eyes betrayed him.
“Fine. Eight. But only because you’re cute when you’re sleepy.”
She grinned, already drifting again.
“Love you, idiot mafia.”
“Love you more, my wild little butterfly,” he whispered, resuming his gentle strokes through her hair.
The world outside could wait a little longer.
Elena had drifted back to sleep in his arms again, her body soft and warm against his chest, cheek pressed to the steady beat of his heart.
The room was quiet except for the distant murmur of waves against the cliffs and the faint rustle of curtains in the sea breeze.
Her breathing was slow, even, peaceful small puffs of air that ghosted across his skin with every exhale.
Lucas hadn’t moved in over an hour.
One arm stayed locked around her waist, holding her close like she might slip away if he loosened his grip even a fraction.
The other hand stroked slow, absent patterns through her hair gentle, rhythmic, grounding himself in the simple fact that she was here, safe, breathing.
His phone vibrated once sharp, silent on the nightstand.
He glanced at it without shifting her weight.
A notification from the private investigator he’d hired after the gown arrived.
He opened it one-handed, thumb swiping the screen carefully so the light wouldn’t wake her.
Message:
Boss, that dress you got parcel from before sending to the boy. It wasn’t the same courier. I’ve got a clue. The man who handled it wore a different kind of ring. May help. I think the ring is customized black diamond, engraved. I’ve sent you the pic.
Lucas opened the attached photo.
A grainy still from security footage zoomed in, enhanced.
A man’s hand holding the brown-wrapped package.
On his ring finger: a heavy black signet ring.
Black diamond center stone.
Engraved crest sharp lines, unmistakable even in the blur.
Lucas stared at the photo for a long, frozen moment, thumb hovering over the screen, zooming in until the grainy pixels blurred into meaning.
The black signet ring stared back at him bold, heavy, unmistakable.
The black diamond at its center caught the light even in the low-res capture, cold and sharp.
But it was the engraved crest that made his blood turn to ice: a stylized serpent coiled around a broken crown, the tail ending in a small, precise thorn.
He knew that crest.
Not from books or rumors from childhood memories he’d tried to bury so deep they should have rotted.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, the sound barely audible over Elena’s soft breathing.
His free hand the one still stroking her hair paused mid-motion, fingers curling slightly into the strands like he needed the anchor.
“How is he related to Elena’s mother?” he muttered under his breath, voice so low it was more thought than sound.
“How the fuck does he know her?”
The questions hung in the quiet room like smoke, unanswered and poisonous.
He scrolled back to the investigator’s message, reread the timestamp, the courier switch, the locker drop.
Every detail clicked into place like teeth in a trap.
Something was fishy.
More than fishy deliberate.
Personal.
The gown hadn’t been sent by a random enemy trying to scare Elena.
It had been sent by someone who knew exactly what it would do to her someone who understood the weight of that particular piece of silk and blood.
Someone who had access to Isabella past… and wanted Elena to bleed for it all over again.
Lucas’s thumb tightened on the phone until the case creaked.
His pulse thudded in his ears, steady but loud, drowning out the sea for a moment.
He looked down at Elena still asleep, still safe, still completely unaware that the past was reaching for her again.
Her lashes rested against her cheeks, lips slightly parted, one hand curled loosely against his ribs like she trusted him to hold the entire world steady while she dreamed.
He pressed his lips to the crown of her head—slow, fierce, a silent vow.
“They won’t touch you,” he whispered against her hair, so quiet even the room couldn’t steal the words.
“Not again. Not ever.”.
He opened a new message to Viktor.
Lucas:
Black signet ring. Black diamond. Serpent-and-broken-crown crest.
Find out who wears it.
Find out how he’s connected to Elana mother
Find out now.
He hit send.
Then he set the phone face-down on the nightstand, screen dark.
He shifted carefully, pulling Elena closer until there wasn’t a single inch of space between them.
His chin rested on top of her head, arms locking around her like armor.
He closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come.
The threat had a shape now.
A ring.
A crest.
A name.
And Lucas Romeo was very good at hunting things that tried to hide.
To be continued…