Chapter 58

Chapter 58
ELENA’S POV

HE GOT SHOT?

“Did I just hear him say he got shot…?” The words barely escaped my lips, a whisper too afraid to be real. I stood frozen, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat, and my heart thumped like it was trying to escape my chest.

Had I imagined it? Did he really say that? I replayed his voice over and over in my head, trying to make sense of it. Shot. That word echoed, jagged and heavy, bouncing through my skull like a warning siren.

My grip on the phone tightened, my fingers trembling slightly.

“You still there...? Talk to me...” I muttered into the phone, my voice low, but laced with something sharp…urgency, panic, maybe even fear. It was subtle, but there. I hated the way it crept into my words. I was supposed to be composed. I was supposed to sound calculated, and in control.

But instead… I felt like I was unraveling.

For some reason, the idea of Luca getting shot shook me more than I’d expected. It shouldn’t have mattered. I had a role to play, and feelings, emotions…they were liabilities. This wasn’t supposed to be personal. And yet… something about it felt personal. Too personal.

Who the hell dared touch my target before I even got started? This wasn’t how the plan was supposed to go. The mission had barely even begun, and someone else had taken a shot at him? It wasn’t just reckless, it was disrespectful. Like someone was moving pieces on a board I hadn’t finished setting up.

"Relax... I'm fine now. Hearing your voice feels... soothing to my wound," Luca said.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. Was he… flirting with me?

In this situation?

My jaw clenched as I rolled my eyes, a soundless scoff escaping my throat. This man. Only Luca would get shot and still manage to find a way to flirt like it was just another day. It was absurd, and maddening. I had half a mind to hang up and let him bleed out just for that one-liner.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I steadied myself. “What happened? How did you get shot? Tell me everything,” I demanded, voice firmer now. The curiosity clawed at my insides, mingling with something much darker…..possessiveness.

There was a pause. A long one. I could hear him breathing on the other end as if he was carefully thinking of his response, and it only made the silence more intense. I imagined him deciding whether or not to tell me the truth. Whether or not to trust me.

Finally, he spoke.

“Don’t stress yourself, Lena,” he said, voice softer. “I just called to hear from you... and maybe ask if we could meet up. Sit together. Talk a little.”

I blinked again.

That was it?

He’d just been shot, and all he wanted to do was... talk? Face to face?

The nerve. The calmness. Either he was being cautious and strategic, or he really was that reckless. Either way, I had to admit... it worked. The fact that he still wanted to see me, after everything….meant something.

"Alright, fine. So where do you wanna meet up?" I asked, my voice betraying none of the storm brewing in my chest.

“Uhb... how about you pick a place?” he replied smoothly.

And just like that, I felt a small wave of relief rush through me. If he were suspicious, if he had even the slightest idea about who I really was or what I was doing, he wouldn’t be this easygoing. His tone still had that same familiar charm, that lazy confidence. There was no tension, no caution. No edge to his voice. My cover hadn’t been blown. Not yet.

"Are you home?" I asked, playing it cool.

“Umm… yeah. Yeah, I’m home. The penthouse,” he answered.

I paused for a second, then nodded to myself. “Alright, then. I’ll come check up on you later. You cool with that?” I asked, my voice dipping lower, gentler.

There was a beat of silence before he answered. “For real!?”

I could hear the surprise in his voice. He wasn’t faking it. “Okay, my schedule’s cleared, so I’ll be home all day. I’ll be expecting you.”

We spoke a bit more, small talk mostly. Empty words with heavy tension beneath them. Then I ended the call.

The moment the line went dead, the weight of it all came crashing back in.

“Who the hell could’ve shot him...?” I whispered, pacing now, my footsteps echoing against the hardwood floor. “Shit…”

It wasn’t just irritation, it was fury. Someone had crossed a line. No one touched my target. No one. Whoever did this was playing with fire, and they didn’t even know it. I felt a dangerous heat curl in my chest. If they were trying to send a message, it failed. All they’d done was put themselves on my radar.

I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms. My blood was boiling, my jaw tight. But just as quickly as that fire rose, it dimmed. A single thought pierced through my rage like a blade.

Conner.

I’d completely forgotten about him. Just... left him behind in the storm of my obsession with Luca. My heart dropped into my stomach. He was the one who had always been there, steady, loyal, real. And I’d thrown all of that aside the second Luca’s name popped up on my screen.

“Damn…” My voice cracked as I whispered, “I’m such a bad person.”

The guilt hit me like a wave, sharp and suffocating. I dragged a shaky hand through my hair, my mind replaying every moment I’d ever shared with Conner. The warmth in his eyes. The way he always tried to protect me. The way he saw me, even the parts I wanted to hide.

And now? Now I was chasing after someone else like Conner never mattered.

“I should text him,” I mumbled, my chest tight as I grabbed my phone again.

I opened our chat and stared at the last message for a long second. No response. No read receipts. Just silence. And that silence was louder than any rejection.

I slowly started typing:

Hey…
I know you’re mad at me, but at least pick up the call.
I’m really sorry about how everything turned out.
You…of all people…should know it was never my intention to act like that.
I got carried away by my emotions.
Please tell me that it’s okay, and that we can move past this.
Like it never even happened. Please…
I hoped to stop by your place so we could talk things through.
Let me know if you’re okay with that.
Hit me back.

Please…

I stared at the screen for a long moment, reading the message over and over. It didn’t feel like enough. Nothing I said would ever feel like enough, but I had to try.

With a quiet exhale, I finally hit send.

The little notification popped up…Delivered, but nothing else.

No reply. No typing bubbles. Just… emptiness.

“Come on, Conner…” I whispered, lowering my head, letting the guilt eat at me.

If he didn’t reply, I wasn’t sure I could blame him.

But God, I hoped he would.