Chapter 57 IN CONTROL.
\~~~RAINA.
I don’t think I slept, to be honest.
If I did, it couldn’t have been more than an hour. And it was really broken, shallow, and useless.
My mind never shut off. Every time I closed my eyes, words crawled back in, everything that the stranger had said to me. By the time the clock glowed at 5:00 a.m., I gave up pretending and slid out of bed.
The bathroom light felt too bright, and too honest. I showered quickly, scrubbing my skin like I could wash off the fear I was feeling, and like water could erase the fact that someone out there knew my name and my secret. By the time I stepped out with the towel clutched tight around me, my nerves were stretched thin as wire.
Luciano was already awake.
He sat on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his eyes sharp and observant as they lifted to me. Immediately, I stiffened.
He studied me for a long second. “Is there a special occasion today?” he asked coolly. “You woke up even before I did.”
My fingers twisted into the towel. “No,” I said too quickly. Then softer, “I just… couldn’t sleep.”
He didn’t look convinced, not one bit. Suspicion flickered in his eyes, dark and unreadable, but I didn’t give him time to press. I turned away and rushed into the closet, my heartbeat pounding loud in my ears.
By seven, I was already leaving the house.
“I am skipping breakfast,” I told him, grabbing my bag. “I have an important meeting.”
His gaze followed me like a shadow. “At this hour?”
“Yes.” I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. If I did, I might crack.
The office felt strangely hollow that morning. I sat at my desk for hours, barely moving, my phone placed neatly in front of me like a loaded weapon. Every vibration made my chest tighten. Every second dragged. I didn’t open emails. I didn’t answer calls. I just waited.
Nine fifty-eight.
Nine fifty-nine.
Ten.
The phone rang.
I shot up so fast my chair screeched backward. My hands shook as I grabbed the phone, and my fingers were clumsy against the screen. I answered immediately.
At first, there was nothing.
Just a slow, heavy, and deliberate breathing.
My brows creased as my stomach twisted. “Hello?” I said cautiously.
The breathing continued, stretching, pressing against my nerves until a low laugh filtered through the line.
I swallowed hard. “Who are you?”
“You almost picked the call before I even made it,” the voice said.
It was wrong. The voice was distorted and muffled like it had been dragged through layers of static. I couldn’t tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. My eyes darted around my empty office, as if the voice might be hiding somewhere in the corners.
“What a good girl,” the voice continued smoothly. “You picked up immediately.”
My palm pressed against my mouth as I forced myself to breathe. “What do you want from me?”
There was a long pause before they breathed out, “Are you not moving too fast?”
My chest tightened painfully. “What does that even mean?”
Another laugh, quieter this time. Mocking. “I must say, you have more guts than you look like you do. Fooling Luciano Moretti?” The voice clicked its tongue. “Impressive. One would never imagine a man as high and mighty as him could miss something this obvious.”
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
“Who sent you?” I demanded, my voice breaking despite my effort. “How did you find out? Who are you? What exactly do you want from me?”
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The questions spilled out, sharp and desperate, like throwing stones in the dark and hoping to hit something solid.
“How about we take it easy, Raina?” the voice interrupted calmly.
Hearing my name like that, soft, and deliberate sent a chill straight down my spine.
I sank back into my chair slowly, my legs suddenly weak. “You said you wanted a conversation,” I said, forcing steadiness into my tone. “So talk.”
“Oh, we will,” the voice replied. “But understand this first, you are not in control here. You never were.”
My throat tightened. “Then why call me?”
“Because,” the voice said lightly, “everyone deserves a chance at redemption, remember?”
The word echoed in my head like a verdict.
“And if I don’t play along?” I asked quietly.
The pause this time was longer.
“Then,” the voice said, almost pleasantly, “we see how much Luciano Moretti values the truth.”
The call ended.
I stared at the screen, my reflection faintly visible against the dark glass. My heart raced so violently I thought it might tear itself free. Whoever this was didn’t just want to scare me.
They wanted control.
And the worst part?
They already had it.
Fuck.