Chapter 45 ON THE BED.
\~~~LUCIANO MORETTI.
“Irina?” I repeated, stopping halfway through the corridor.
“Yes, she’s back. And I swear, I…”
“Forget about Irina.” I cut her off sharply. “What exactly do you have against Talia?”
“That woman?” Alessia scoffed loudly, stepping away from me like the very name irritated her skin.
“She is my wife,” I reminded her, my voice low enough to be a warning.
Alessia shot me a look. “And you have been with plenty of women who wanted nothing but to ruin you, drain you, rob you, or bury you alive. She is no different from any of them.”
She pressed the elevator button, shoulders rising and falling in annoyance.
“Trust me, Rafael,” she continued, “If she turns out to be like any of them, I will…”
“Alessia.” My voice cut through the air like a blade.
She ignored it. “I mean it. I will kill her if I have to.”
The elevator doors slid open.
Before I could respond, Viktor stepped out first, bowing briefly to Alessia before moving to my side. Alessia stepped in, her expression tight, refusing to listen to anything else I had to say.
The doors closed behind her and I exhaled hard through my nose.
“Did you find her?” I asked Viktor without looking at him.
“Yes,” he replied immediately. “She is from the marketing team. Her name is Ava Smith and she has been working here for the past two years. She has a good record, and there is nothing unusual.”
“Who cares about that?” I hissed, pulling my phone out of my pocket.
“And, boss.”
“Yes?”
“I managed to push the meeting you were supposed to have at eleven to one p.m.” He glanced at his wristwatch, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth.
“Wow. You’re so diligent,” I breathed out.
“We need to get going. You can’t miss it again.”
“Right after I handle this,” I said, lifting my phone.
_____
It had been a full week since I last set foot in my own house.
A full week of silence, and a full week of letting Raina breathe.
I stayed in one of my houses in San Francisco, the one nobody knew about except Viktor.
The door opened, and Viktor walked in without knocking, holding a thick file.
“Boss,” he said, placing it on the table in front of me.
I leaned forward, flipped the file open, and the first picture punched air out of my lungs.
My jaw tightened. “So… where is she now?”
“She left San Francisco a couple of days ago,” Viktor replied. “She just landed in Reykjavík, Iceland.”
I leaned back slowly, staring at her picture again.
“Really?” I muttered.
“Yes, boss.” Viktor’s voice sharpened. “We can’t keep tolerating this. They need to know we know what is going on. They’re taking us for fools too many times.”
I didn’t respond. Not to that.
My eyes stayed on the woman I was supposed to marry.
Talia.
The woman who had run right before she was supposed to wear her white dress and walk down the aisle.
The woman whose sister stood in for her.
This entire thing was starting to feel like a joke the universe was playing on me.
“Did you get the phone record I asked for?” I asked instead.
“Yes,” Viktor said. He reached into his suit pocket and placed another file in front of me.
I opened it and I read through the numbers, dates, and calls.
“Both of them talked a month ago,” I said quietly, flipping the page.
“Yes. Like I told you, boss…” Viktor leaned closer, his voice low and tight. “They are in this together.”
I swallowed hard as my eyes traced the photos of Talia on a sidewalk in San Francisco with her hair tied up, wearing jeans and a hoodie.
She looked… light, and free. Like there was nothing in the world bothering her.
Like she wasn’t supposed to be married to me, a man whose world was built on blood and consequences.
Then, I looked at the call log again.
“But the call wasn’t long,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but there was still contact, and one minute was more than enough to share secrets to ruin a person,” Viktor replied.
He wasn’t wrong.
I leaned back in my seat, dragging a hand down my face.
“Boss,” Viktor said. “Tell me what to do.”
“What would you do?” I questioned him, keeping my voice calm.
He didn’t even hesitate.
“When it comes to getting answers from people, you know I don’t miss,” he said. “I’d make her spill the truth in a few minutes.”
I slammed the file shut.
“She is your madam, Viktor!” I snapped.
“And a liar,” he shot back. “Who knows what she has planned? You share a room with her. Are you not afraid?”
“Me?” I pointed at my own chest and laughed darkly, and humorlessly.
“Luciano? Afraid?”
He blinked. “Boss, even stones crack if you hit them right. She is smarter than she looks. You saw those calls. You saw the pictures. They are not innocent.”
I didn’t reply.
He was right, I know.
And I hated that he was right.
The Talia in those pictures wasn’t the woman who slept beside me.
This one seemed stiff, cold, and suspicious despite the happy facade she was trying to put on.
And the one at home, Raina, smiled and talked like she didn’t know what pain looked like.
Viktor waited, his hands behind his back, patient but tense.
“We need to make a move,” he said.
I exhaled slowly and stood.
“It is time we returned home,” I said. “My wife must have missed me.”
Viktor’s eyes widened. “Boss!”
I walked past him, grabbing my coat.
“She wants to play games?” I said quietly. “Fine. I love games too.”
_____
When I stepped into the house, the living room was too quiet. Only two maids were dusting the shelves, and the butler stood beside them with her hands folded.
“Where is my wife?” I asked.
The butler bowed her head a little. “Madam has not come out of the room since lunch, sir.”
I checked my wristwatch. 5:47 p.m.
Almost six and she hadn’t stepped out since noon?
I hummed under my breath, not sure how to feel about it. Then I walked over to the stairs and started climbing slowly.
When I reached the hallway, I paused because for a second, I thought maybe she had left the house. It was Saturday, after all. Saturdays were the days she never sat still. She was always doing something, singing loudly with her headphones on, watching some show she claimed I wouldn’t understand, or scattering the entire room because she was trying to arrange it.
But the hallway was silent.
Too silent, in fact. So, I walked toward our room, my hand brushing the wall lightly. When I reached the door, I stopped again.
I wrapped my fingers around the knob and turned it slowly. The metal clicked softly and then I pushed the door open, and almost quietly, like I wasn’t sure what I would find inside.
Then, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The room was dim except for the soft glow of the bedside lamp. For a second, I thought she was asleep.
Then I heard her groan.
Is she in… pain?
“Uhmmm…” she groa…
Wait, moan?
“Fuck, Luciano.”
Slowly, I trailed my hand along the wall until I found the switch and then turned it on.
The lights came on, and the breath left my lungs.
Raina, my wife, lay sprawled naked on the bed, sheets pushed aside, her skin glowing under the warm light. Her legs were drawn up slightly, her chest rising and falling too quickly for someone resting. Her head was tilted back, her lips were parted, and her cheeks were flushed.
One hand was fondling her breast, while her other hand worked with its finger down there, in her vigina.