Chapter 142 AROUND YOUR FINGERS.
\~~~RAINA.
I woke up the next morning with Luciano's arm draped over my waist, his steady breathing warm against my neck. For a moment, I just lay there, listening to the quiet rhythm of his heart against my back.
Yesterday’s revelations still hung heavy in my mind and it all felt like a nightmare I couldn't shake. But I had to push it down. Today was a new day, and I needed to act normally. At least on the outside.
I slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake him. The clock on the nightstand read 6:15 AM. Work waited, and so did the world beyond these walls. I padded to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and stared at my reflection. My eyes were puffy from crying, but I forced a small smile. Luciano deserved that much. He had been so patient last night, holding me as I processed everything. His love felt like the only solid thing left.
Downstairs, the kitchen smelled of fresh coffee and toast. Our housekeeper had already set the table and Luciano was there, pouring himself a cup, his hair still tousled from sleep. He looked up as I entered, his dark eyes softening.
“Morning, wifey,” he said, pulling me into a quick hug. His lips brushed my forehead, and I leaned into him, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.
“Morning, hubby,” I murmured, sitting down. We ate in comfortable silence at first but the weight of unspoken words pressed on me. I wanted to ask about my father again, to beg for mercy or details on what he planned. Would he really kill him? The thought twisted my stomach. But I bit my tongue. No more pushing. Not yet. I had to trust him, as he asked.
So, I focused on the food, on the way Luciano's hand occasionally brushed mine across the table.
As we finished, he leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I’m heading out after this,” he said casually.
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Okay. Be safe.” My voice stayed steady, but inside, questions swirled.
Meetings? With who? About what? Was this about Dad?
I didn't ask. Instead, I stood, clearing the plates. “I should get going too. Traffic will be a nightmare.”
He rose, wrapping his arms around me from behind as I rinsed a dish. “Call me if you need anything,” he whispered, kissing my neck. A shiver ran through me, mixing comfort with the ache in my chest. I turned in his arms and gave him a proper kiss, soft and lingering. “I will.” Then I grabbed my bag and headed out.
Gabriel was waiting by the car, engine idling. He opened the door for me with his usual quiet efficiency. “Good morning, Madam,” he said, tipping his head.
“Morning, Gabriel,” I slid into the back seat, buckling up as he pulled away from the house. The gates swung open smoothly, and we merged into the morning rush. The city blurred past tall buildings, honking cars, and people hurrying to their lives.
My phone buzzed in my purse, jolting me back. I fished it out, glancing at the screen and it was my mother.
My heart sank. I hadn't spoken to her since yesterday's discussion. What now?
I hit accept, bringing it to my ear. “Mother.”
“Raina, thank God.” Her voice cracked, breathless and desperate. “Please, you have to come by the house. Right now. It's your father, he is still not back. I can't do this alone.”
I glanced at the dashboard clock and it was past 8 AM.
Work could wait a little. ‘'Mom, slow down.”
“Just come. Please. I beg you.” Sobs choked her words, and something in me twisted. She sounded broken, not the strong woman I'd known.
“Okay, okay. I'm on my way.’' I ended the call, my pulse racing.
“Gabriel, turn the car around. We need to detour to my parents' house.”
He met my eyes in the rearview mirror, nodding without question. “Yes, ma'am.”
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the familiar driveway. Gabriel parked, and I stepped out, smoothing my skirt. “Wait here. This might take a bit.”
I stepped out and opened the door. There she was. My mother looked… broken. Disheveled, her hair loose, her usual composed aura gone, replaced by something raw and fragile. She was crying, her hands shaking slightly as she fumbled with the door.
“Mother!” I rushed to her side, instinctively pulling her close. “Are you okay?”
She could barely look at me. Her voice was choked with tears. “He’s still not home yet. Did you not talk to Luciano? Did you ask him to let him go?'
I held her at arm’s length, breathing out to steady both of us. “Mum… calm down. Just… calm down for me.”
But she didn't. She gripped my arms, her nails digging in.
“How can I calm down? Luciano has him! I know it. That man, your husband, is dangerous. He will kill Arthur!”
I stood, pacing a step or two, my mind racing. “Mother… I know everything now. But you need to calm down. I can’t talk him out of this either.”
Her eyes widened, fury flashing through the tears. “You know? And you are just letting it happen? You mean you don't give a damn if your husband kills your father?”
The words stung, sharp as a slap. Heat rose in my face. “Well, maybe I don't!” I shot back, the anger I'd bottled up spilling out.
Her hand flew before I could react, cracking across my cheek. Pain bloomed, hot and shocking. I staggered back, holding my face, my eyes widening in disbelief. The sting spread, tears pricking my eyes not from hurt, but betrayal. “Mom…”
“How inhumane could you be?” she yelled, standing now, her voice echoing in the room. “To turn your back on your own father like this? After all he has done for you?”
I lowered my hand, my cheeks throbbing.
“Maybe I wouldn't have if you two hadn't cut me off! If you hadn't made me take the fall after pushing me into Talia's life into Luciano's world!” I shot back, my voice rising despite the ache in my heart.
“It was needed!” she screamed, her face twisting. “He could have killed us, all of us! We had to protect the family!”
“And what about me?” I countered, stepping closer, my voice rising to match hers.
“I could have died too! Thrown into that life, married to a man from the mafia, all because of your messes!”
“Well, he didn't kill you,” she spat, her eyes hard. “You managed to wrap him around your fingers. You seduced him, and made him love you however long it took.”
Stunned, I stared at her.
Wrap him around my fingers?
Like it was some game, and some strategy.
Not the real, messy love that had grown between us.
The nights of vulnerability, and the way Luciano held me everything.
“How can you say that?' I whispered, my voice breaking. “Like I am some pawn you used.”
She didn't flinch. Instead, she straightened, wiping her face. “So, now, use that influence. Get your father out of this mess. Before it is too late.”
I shook my head, the resolve hardening in my chest. “I wouldn't do that. He deserves it. He killed Luciano's mother. He deserves whatever comes.”
Her expression shifted, surprise flickering. Then, anger. “Because your father didn't kill Elena!”
The room spun. W... wait. Elena? How did she know that name? My heart pounded, questions flooding. ‘What?’' I asked, my voice low, barely audible.
She sank back onto the couch, avoiding my gaze. “Your father didn't kill Elena.”
“You knew Luciano's mother,” I said, the pieces clicking. It wasn't a question.
She looked away, fiddling with her robe. But I couldn't let it go. “Answer me!”
“Elena Moretti!” she hollered, her voice resentful, laced with years of buried pain. “Of course, I knew the woman who was fucking my husband!”
“What?” I whispered.
Her head went down for a brief moment before snapping back up at me. “Your father didn’t kill Elena. It was… it was me.”
I froze. My eyes narrowed, and I stared at her, unable to process her words. “You… what?”
She avoided my gaze, looking at the floor, trembling. “I… I didn’t mean for it to happen, of course. I… I found out about her… and your father… About the affair…” Her voice broke, and tears streamed down her face. “I… I acted without thinking. I never wanted it to spiral into… this.”
“S… so?”
“I killed her, damn it, and your father helped me cover it!”
I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. My mind raced. The woman who had raised me, who I had trusted, had done something… unthinkable. The reality of it hit me in waves, heavy and suffocating.
I felt my heart twist painfully in my chest. I had always imagined my parents as upright, proper, untouchable in their morality.
But the truth… it was far messier, and far darker than I ever imagined.
My father had been covering for her all these years. My mother had acted in rage and fear, and everyone had lied, concealed, and manipulated…