Chapter 115 A DECLARATION.
\~~~LUCIANO.
I stormed out of that office, my blood boiling like lava in my veins. Raina's words echoed in my head, each one a dagger twisting deeper.
Egoistic. Obsessive. Incapable of love.
How dare she? After everything I'd done, after baring my soul like a fool, she threw it back in my face.
My fists clenched at my sides as I marched down the hallway, the office lights blurring past me. Anger fueled every step, but beneath it lurked something worse, pain. Sharp, unrelenting pain that made my chest ache. I hated it. Hated how she could unravel me like this.
The elevator dinged, and I jabbed the button for the basement garage, needing to get away, to breathe without her scent lingering in the air. The doors slid shut, trapping me in the small space, and that's when the first crack appeared. My reflection in the metal walls looked wrecked. My eyes are wild, and jaw tight.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I was Luciano Moretti. I don’t break over a woman, especially not one who'd lied to my face for months.
The doors opened to the cool, dim basement, and I kept walking, my shoes echoing off the walls, heading straight for my car.
But then a hand grabbed my wrist, firm and familiar.
“Calm down, Rafael.”
Alessia's voice cut through the haze. I stopped, glancing around the empty garage. Rows of cars gleamed under the fluorescent lights, but it felt suffocating. I swallowed hard, my throat dry as sandpaper.
Why did everything feel so heavy?
“I saw you come out of her office. It didn't end well?”
“Ale... ssia.’' My voice broke on her name, and I frowned, heat rising to my face.
This was weakness, and it disgusted me. How could I let Raina reduce me to this? A man on the edge, voice cracking like some lovesick boy.
“God, brother,” Alessia said softly. She tiptoed up, her arms wrapping around me in a hug. Her embrace was warm, steady, but I stood rigid, not hugging back, and not pulling away. Part of me wanted the comfort, but another part rebelled.
I didn't deserve it. I didn't need it.
“I am okay, Alessia,’' I finally said, pushing her away gently but firmly. Her eyes searched mine, full of worry, but I turned my gaze to the floor. No more vulnerability. Not here.
“Would you like me to interfere? I can talk sense into her and…”
“She is not worth it,” I snapped, the words tasting bitter. My sister flinched, but I couldn't stop. The anger surged again, hot and protective of my pride.
“What?”
“I was wrong. I was mistaken to have thought she was. She is not worth it.l” The lie burned my tongue.
Deep down, I knew she was everything. My anchor, and my storm. But admitting that now? Impossible. She'd shattered me too many times.
“You love her, Luciano. That is the pain talking.”
Her words hit like a punch.
Love?
I grabbed Alessia's hand without thinking, my grip tight as I growled, “I don't love her.”
The denial came fierce, but it rang hollow even to me. My heart pounded, betraying the truth I'd almost confessed to Raina upstairs.
Alessia just stared, her eyes steady, and nodded slowly. “So, you're going to give up?”
“I have given up. Allie, she lied to me! I tried to look past it, damn it! But why is she still making me look like the problem?! She called me a lot of names! She made me…” My voice trailed off, the accusations replaying. Twisted. Egoistic. A monster who couldn't love. Each one clawed at me, drawing blood.
“You represent the pain she went through throughout the process of acting like Talia. You should understand her.”
“You're taking her side,” Jealousy flared, irrational and sharp.
Even my sister, the one person always in my corner, defending her?
“I am not. In fact, I am with you. But I wouldn't disregard her either. That girl is... suffering. She cried herself to sleep. She probably thought I didn't hear it, but... I do. She is suffering too, so…”
Her words pierced the armor I'd built. Raina, crying? Alone in the dark, tears soaking the pillow because of me? The image twisted my gut.
I'd caused that pain.
I'd locked her in. But she'd lied too, deceived me from the start. We were both broken, both to blame. Yet hearing Alessia say it made the guilt crash over me like a wave.
“I am done, Alessia. I am done. I don't care,” I cut her off, yanking my hand away. The words were a wall, slamming down between us. I turned and walked, not looking back. Her sigh followed me, soft and sad, but I kept going. The basement lights flickered overhead as I reached my car. Viktor stood there, straight and silent, pulling the door open without a word.
“Did you find her?” he asked once we were moving.
I didn’t respond, he glanced at me briefly, then looked back at the road.
The silence stretched as he drove out of the garage and onto the city streets. Traffic hummed around us, but inside the car, it was a void.
My mind raced, replaying the confrontation.
I'd accused her of sabotage, of being twisted like me. And she'd stood there, mouth open, as I walked away. God, what had I done?
The city blurred past tall buildings, honking cars, and people rushing like ants. None of it mattered. Only her. I rubbed my temples, the headache building.
Alessia's words haunted me, ‘She's suffering too.’
I wanted to believe it was all her fault, but the mirror she had held up showed my flaws clear as day. Obsessive? Yes. Controlling? Absolutely. But love? That raw confession I'd choked on was real. And she'd thrown it away.
By the time we pulled into the driveway of my mansion, the sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the manicured lawns. I got out, slamming the door harder than needed. The fresh air hit me, but it didn't clear the fog in my head.
“Boss!” Gabriel jogged up, his face tense
“Later,” I muttered, brushing past him toward the house. I needed a drink, something to numb this mess.
“This is important,’' He thrust a carton into my hands, small and unassuming, wrapped in plain brown paper.
I raised a brow, curiosity cutting through the turmoil. “What is it?”
“This was sent.” His voice dropped, eyes darting like he expected trouble.
I tore open the package, pulling out a white cloth bundled tight. My fingers unwrapped it slowly, the fabric soft against my skin. Inside, a dead bird lay still, its feathers matted, its eyes glassy and empty. A chill ran down my spine.
This wasn't just a gift. It was a message.
“Who sent this?” I frowned, holding it up.
“Mr. Volkov.”
Irina's father. The name ignited a spark in my chest, shifting the pain to rage.
Volkov, that snake, circling after all this time. Irina's betrayal still stung, but this? This was personal. A promise of blood, and of enemies closing in.
Of course, he'd want to avenge what I did to his daughter.
But, had he not been told that Irina crossed the line first?
Gabriel shifted uneasily. “It arrived an hour ago, sir. No note, but the messenger said it was from him.”
I crushed the cloth in my fist, the bird's form crumpling.
The symbol, a lifeless bird, wrapped in white cloth meant one thing. Death.
This was a declaration of war.