Chapter 100 I’M LOOSING MY MIND

Chapter 100 I’M LOOSING MY MIND

••Roman••

I didn't hear the door close behind me. I didn't hear the sound of her crying out my name. All I heard was the blood roaring in my ears, a violent, rhythmic thrumming that drowned out the rest of the world.

I made it to the garage in a blur of motion, my keys trembling in my hand, not from fear but from the sheer, suppressed force of my rage. I climbed into the driver’s seat of the first car I saw, floored the accelerator, and tore out of the estate. The tires screamed against the pavement, a mirror to the sound I wanted to make but couldn't.

I drove with no destination. I just needed to move. I needed the wind to whip through the open window.

I’m a fool. A massive, arrogant fool. I had seen every single sign. I had known the moment I walked into my study that night that she had been there; her scent had lingered in the air like a confession. I had known she was lying to me every time she smiled. I had even intentionally dropped my phone on that nightstand, a final, desperate test to see if she would choose me over her ghosts.

And she had walked right into the trap. She had chosen the ghost.

"Fuck!" I roared, slamming my fist into the steering wheel. I hit it again and again until my knuckles throbbed. "Fuck!"

Marco.
That bastard had crawled into her head and built a nest of lies, and she had let him. She had looked at the man who had bathed in blood to keep her breathing and decided he was the villain. Did she think the love I showed her was fake? Did she think every kiss, every touch, every promise of a future was just a mask for a murderer?

The road blurred in front of me. I was pushing the car to its limit, the needle climbing higher as my mind spiraled. A pair of headlights suddenly appeared in my lane—a car turning out of a side street. I wasn't concentrating. I was a second away from a head-on collision when my instincts finally kicked in.

I yanked the wheel to the right, the car fishtailing wildly before I managed to skid onto the gravel shoulder. I slammed on the brakes, the screech of metal and rubber echoing into the night.

I sat there, the engine ticking as it cooled, the silence of the dark road pressing in on me. I collapsed forward, burying my face in my hands against the steering wheel. My chest felt like it had been hollowed out with a rusted blade.

"Luci... why?" I whispered into the dark. "Why couldn't you just trust me?"

I had killed for her. I had lied to my father for her. I had even been willing to leave the only life I knew just to give her a "normal" home. And in return, she had hunted me down like a criminal.

I didn't go back that night. I couldn't. I knew if I looked at her, I would either break the room apart or break down myself. I can't break down!

••Luciana••

Two weeks.

Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours.

I had counted every second since the door clicked shut behind Roman.

In the beginning, I thought he just needed a night to cool off. Then I thought he needed a few days. Now, I was starting to realize that the man I loved might never truly come back to the room we shared.

He had become a ghost in his own house. I heard him return in the dead of night, his footsteps heavy in the hallway as he bypassed our door to sleep in the guest wing or his study. I had called him until my fingers were sore, leaving hundreds of messages that went unread.

I had begged Theo, nearly falling to my knees in the foyer, to tell me where he was during the day, but Theo only looked at me with a cold, professional pity.

"He doesn't want to be found, Luciana," Theo had said, his voice flat. "And I work for him. Not you."

The entire Orlov household knew. The maids whispered in the corners, and the guards avoided my eyes. They didn't know the specifics, but they knew the crown prince and his bride were no longer a team.

Mildred came to my room every day. She brought tea, she brought books, she tried to tell me jokes that fell flat. She was trying to save me from the drowning weight of my own guilt, but I couldn't even manage a fake smile. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the girl who had believed Marco. I saw the girl who had used a dead man’s birthday to betray her living husband.

"You have to eat, Luci," Mildred whispered yesterday, pushing a tray toward me.

"I can't, Mildred. It tastes like ash," I replied, staring at the phone that remained stubbornly silent.

The lowest point came three days ago. I heard his car pull into the driveway. I didn't care that I was in my silk robe and bare feet. I ran out of the house, down the stone steps, and threw myself in front of his car as it slowed.

"Roman! Please!" I screamed, slamming my palms against the hood. "Talk to me! Just for five minutes!"

I saw him through the windshield. His eyes were shadowed, his jaw set in a line so hard it looked like granite. He didn't look at me. He didn't even acknowledge my presence. He simply pressed a button, and the tinted window hummed as it rolled all the way up, sealing him away in his own private fortress.

He drove around me as if I were nothing more than a stray dog in his path.

I watched him go to an emerald gala last night, alone. I saw the photos on the society blogs this morning. He looked regal, powerful, and utterly untouchable. The official word was that his wife was "unwell." It was a polite way of saying his wife didn't exist to him anymore.

I sat on the edge of our bed, the bed that still smelled faintly of his cologne.

Is my marriage over? The thought was a jagged piece of glass in my throat.

What would happen to me now? If Roman decided he was done, I would be discarded. Not just by him, but by the alliance. Without his protection, I was just a girl with too many secrets and not enough allies. But it wasn't the fear of the Mafia that kept me awake. It was the silence.

I picked up my phone for the thousandth time, my thumb hovering over his name. I had sent every apology I could think of. I had explained, I had pleaded, I had confessed.

I typed out one last message, my tears blurring the screen.

"I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know I broke the only thing that mattered. But please, Roman... don't make me live in a world where you don't look at me."

I hit send. Like all the others, it stayed on "Delivered." Never "Read."

I curled into a ball on the cold side of the bed, the side that used to be warm, and finally understood the true price of my suspicion. I had looked for the monster, and I had found him. But the monster wasn't Roman.

The monster was the silence he had left behind.