Chapter 160 WRONG.
\~~~LUCIANO.
I stepped out of the car, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap after the stuffy confines of the meeting.
The bouquet of lily flowers, just like the ones Raina loved, felt heavy in my hand, petals brushing against my fingers.
I waved to Gabriel, who was already hurrying over from where he had parked the other vehicle.
Viktor lingered by the car door, his eyes scanning the compound like always, ever the watchdog.
"She is home, yeah?" I asked Gabriel, gripping the flowers tighter. My mind was already racing ahead to see her, and holding her after the long day.
The text I had sent earlier, telling her I was coming home early, had gone unanswered.
Odd, but maybe she was just busy unwinding.
"Yes, sir. She arrived about an hour ago," Gabriel nodded, his voice steady. He glanced at the bouquet, a small smile tugging at his lips.
I nodded back, my thoughts swirling. An hour?
Plenty of time for her to reply. Maybe her phone was on silent, or she was napping. Whatever it was, I'd make up for the lost time.
I turned away from Viktor, who gave a subtle nod, our silent signal that everything was clear and headed toward the front door. The mansion loomed before me, lights glowing warmly from the windows, a beacon in the darkening sky.
This place had become my sanctuary, built on layers of secrets and blood, but with Raina, it felt like home.
Pushing open the heavy door, I stepped into the foyer. The marble floors echoed my footsteps, and the faint scent of fresh pink tulips from the vase on the side table greeted me.
No sign of her in the living room as the sofas empty, and the fireplace unlit.
I took the stairs two at a time, the bouquet still clutched in one hand. Our bedroom door was ajar, and as I pushed it open, the sound of running water hit my ears. The bathroom light spilled out from under the door, a steady hum accompanying it.
She is in there, I thought, shedding the day's weight. Perfect timing. I set the flowers on the dresser, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt. The fabric was crisp from the dry cleaners, but now it felt too confining.
The second button undone, and the water stopped running. By the time the faucet squeaked off, I'd peeled the shirt from my shoulders, tossing it onto the chair. My chest felt freer, the cool air raising goosebumps on my skin.
I picked up the bouquet again, the thorns pricking lightly through the wrapping. Leaning against the bedpost, I waited, my heart picking up pace. The door handle turned, and there she was, Raina, stepping out wrapped in a towel hugged her figure just right. Her hair was damp, framing her face, and for a split second, everything felt perfect.
Her lips curved into a smile the moment she saw me, bright and welcoming. It pulled me in like a magnet. I closed the space between us in two strides, the flowers thrust forward. "I saw these on my way and thought you'd like them," I said, my voice low, watching her eyes light up.
She took them gently, bringing the blooms to her nose for a sniff. The scent filled the air sweet and heady. "I thought you wouldn't be coming home tonight," she murmured, her gaze flicking up to mine.
I couldn't help it, I pulled her closer, my arm wrapping around her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric.
"Told you I couldn't spend the night without you," I whispered, leaning down to kiss her.
Our lips met, soft at first, but something twisted inside me right away.
The kiss felt... off. Wrong.
Like pressing against a door that wouldn't quite open. I pulled back, frowning, and searching her eyes. What the hell?
Raina's kisses were fire, passionate, alive, and pulling me under. This was flat, and mechanical.
"What?" she asked, her voice a whisper, concern flickering in her expression.
"N… nothing," I stammered, clearing my throat. I leaned in again, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of her lips, hoping it was just my imagination.
But as I stepped away, undoing my belt with distracted hands, doubt gnawed at me. The leather slid free with a soft whoosh, and I dropped it on the dresser.
Time to shake it off. We had bigger things to talk about.
"I met Arthur today," I said casually, turning to face her fully. My voice carried the edge of satisfaction I'd been holding onto all afternoon.
"A… Arthur? My father?" Her tone was hesitant, like she was piecing it together.
"Yes." I watched her closely, the way her fingers tightened on the bouquet.
"How is he?" she pressed, stepping a bit closer.
I removed my belt completely, letting it coil on the table, and met her gaze. "Bad. You should have seen his face when I laid out all the evidence, the photos, the works and all. He admitted to everything, finally." A chuckle escaped me, dark and triumphant.
Twenty years of wondering, of rage building like a storm, and now closure. Arthur's confession had been broken, defeated.
His wife had killed my mother and he had helped her cover it.
She crossed the space between us in a few quick steps, dropping the bouquet onto the bed with a soft thud. Before I could react, her hands were on my chest, pushing me back toward the mattress. I sat down hard, surprised, as she loomed over me.
"Why don't we talk about that later? I have missed you," she groaned, her voice husky, eyes dark.
I blinked up at her, a laugh bubbling up. Raina making the first move? It wasn't like her to be so bold right off the bat, but damn if it didn't stir something in me.