Chapter 76

Chapter 75
Adrian hadn’t stopped watching her. Lucia could feel his gaze on her skin like heat. She wiped her thumb across the last bit of apple juice on her palm and looked up at him.

“What?” she asked again, softer this time.

Adrian exhaled slowly. “It was Rico,” he said. “He sent him.”

Lucia lifted her brows, not surprised. “As much as I want to act shocked,” she murmured, “I’m really not. There’s something about Rico. Something that’s always felt… off.”

Adrian’s jaw flexed. He pushed a hand through his hair, pacing a slow line across the room. There was a heaviness in the way he walked—anger weighted with disappointment.

“It shouldn’t have been him,” he said quietly. “Anyone else… I would’ve dealt with it and moved on. But Rico?” He shook his head. “It’s painful that he’s the one who’d stab me in the back.”

Lucia crossed her arms as she listened. She wasn’t comforting him, not with empty words. She just stood there, steady, the calm to the storm he hadn’t learned how to silence. “So,” she said after a moment, “what do you plan to do?”

Adrian didn’t answer for a second. His footsteps slowed. Then he looked at her and the cold in his eyes sharpened into something lethal.

“Rico will suffer for what he did,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Lucia nodded once, accepting that truth without flinching.

Before either of them could say anything else, a sound cracked through the mansion like a whip—one single gunshot, loud and close, followed instantly by another—then shouting.

Lucia snapped her head toward the hallway. Adrian went deadly still.

Then the guards’ voices exploded downstairs.
“Cover the east side!”
“They’re inside— they’re inside!”

The next volley of bullets rattled the walls.

Adrian reached for his gun at the same moment the lights flickered. Shock flashed across his face, but he hid it fast, shoving every emotion down as he moved toward the door.

“Stay behind—” he began, but he didn’t finish.

A shot tore through the air—so sharp, so fast, Lucia barely registered it until she saw the way Adrian’s body jerked. His breath caught in his throat and The gun slipped from his fingers.

“Adrian?” she whispered.

He blinked slowly, confusion washing over his face before the pain did. A dark stain blossomed across his chest, spreading too quickly. His knees buckled.

Lucia reached for him just as he hit the floor.

“No—Adrian—Adrian!” Her voice cracked, panic clawing up her throat. She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands trembling as she pressed them against the wound.

His blood was hot against her palms.

“Stay with me,” she whispered urgently. “Just breathe—just stay with me.”

Adrian tried. His mouth opened like he wanted to reassure her, or tell her to run, or call her name—she didn’t know. No sound came out.

“HELP!” Lucia screamed. “Somebody—!”

Before she could finish, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind.

Lucia’s entire body convulsed. She kicked and twisted, her nails digging into the wrist holding her, desperate to break free.

“Shh,” a voice hissed behind her ear. “Stop fighting.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She fought harder. She didn’t care who it was. She didn’t care if they killed her too. Adrian was bleeding out in front of her, his eyes dimming, breath shallow, and she couldn’t even reach him.

She bit down on the hand covering her mouth—hard. A rough grunt sounded behind her, the grip loosening just long enough for her to gasp in air and shout—

“LET GO—!”

Her scream died instantly.

Bootsteps echoed from the doorway, heavy and unhurried. The air shifted. The sound of gunfire outside seemed to fade into a distant, meaningless noise.

Lucia froze.

Because the man stepping into the room wasn’t a stranger.

She knew that face.

Rico.

He walked in like he owned the place—no mask, no panic, just a slight smirk pulling at his mouth as he looked from Lucia to the blood pooling beneath Adrian.

“Well,” Rico said, tilting his head, “I thought he’d last a little longer.”

Lucia stopped breathing.

Her whole body went still, her hands still covered in Adrian’s blood. The man behind her kept his hand on her shoulder now instead of her mouth, holding her in place. She didn’t try to fight him. She could barely think. All she could do was stare at Rico.

His eyes were calm. Too calm. Like he was bored.

He crouched beside Adrian and nudged his shoulder with two fingers. “He always thought he was smarter than me. Stronger. Untouchable.” He looked up at Lucia. “Seems like he was wrong on all counts.”

Lucia swallowed hard, but her throat burned too much to speak.

Rico smiled at her reaction, slow and satisfied. “You should see your face right now.”

She didn’t look away. Her fear was sharp, but buried beneath it was something else—something boiling, something that pushed through the terror one inch at a time.

Rage.

Rico didn’t notice. Or maybe he didn’t care.

He ran a hand over Adrian’s bloodstained shirt, examining the wound like he was inspecting damage on a car he intended to scrap.

“You know,” he said casually, “he was always too sentimental. Too trusting. Even when he pretended he wasn’t.”

Lucia clenched her jaw.

Rico’s gaze flicked back to her. “He trusted you, didn’t he?” he asked, with his  voice slow, testing. “Brought you closer than anyone.”

Lucia felt the hand on her shoulder tighten.

Rico stood again, brushing invisible dust from his palms. “He never learned that the people closest to you are the ones who hurt you the most.”

Lucia forced the words out, her voice breaking. “You’re a coward. Rico”

Silence.

Rico turned toward her fully. His expression didn’t change, but something colder settled in his eyes.

“A coward?” he repeated. “For getting rid of a man planning to get rid of me?” He shook his head. “No. A coward is someone who lets others strike first.”

Her chest heaved. “He wasn’t going to get rid of you. He wanted answers. That’s all. But now, he'll hunt you down and deal with you.”

Rico laughed—a soft, humorless sound. “That’s what he told you?”

Lucia didn’t respond.

He stepped closer, close enough that she felt the warmth of his breath. “He was going to kill me,” Rico whispered. “You think I didn’t know? You think I haven’t watched him long enough to know when his mind shifts?”

“You betrayed him first,” she said through gritted teeth.

Rico shrugged. “Survival has no order.”

He reached down suddenly, grabbing her chin in one hand. Lucia jerked back, but the guard held her still.

Rico examined her face like she was a strange object. “Now the question is… what do we do with you?”

Her breath stopped.

The guard behind her tightened his hold.

Rico brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, his touch almost gentle—mocking. “Adrian cared about you,” he said. “Which means keeping you alive may be useful.”

Lucia’s heart pounded so loud she could hear it over the gunfire.

“But don’t mistake that for mercy,” Rico added. “If you scream again, I’ll put a bullet through your leg just to remind you who’s in control.”

Lucia felt her fingers twitch, wanting to claw at him, wanting to do something—anything—but she stayed still. She had no leverage, no weapon, nothing but the burning hatred swelling in her chest.

Rico straightened and flicked his eyes toward the guard. “Bring her,” he ordered. “We’re not done.”

Lucia’s pulse hammered in her ears.

Before they dragged her away, she looked at Adrian one more time—his chest rising faintly, barely.

He was still alive.

Weak. Bleeding. But alive.

Rico followed her gaze and smirked. “If he lives long enough to wake up,” he said lightly, “tell him I said goodbye.”

The guard yanked her backward.

Lucia stumbled, her hands reaching toward Adrian even though she knew she couldn’t reach him.

“Adrian!” she choked out.

Rico didn’t turn around.

Adrian didn’t move.

And Lucia was dragged out of the room, barefoot, shaking, furious, and terrified—
ready to tear the world apart if that’s what it took to get back to him.