Chapter 15 Walking into Silence
••Luciana••
For the first time, I woke up as Luciana Orlov.
The name tasted strange in my mouth. It is too new and too heavy. It felt like slipping into a dress someone else tailored, hoping it fits with time.
I pushed myself up on the bed and stared at the ceiling. What will my life look like from now on? No more lazy mornings where I waited for breakfast like a pampered princess. No more tagging along with Father to meetings, pretending to be interested in business deals just to annoy his men.
No more spontaneous ice cream runs with Antonio.
No more loud club nights that Matteo always pretended he didn’t enjoy.
No more shopping sprees where I lost track of my own footsteps.
A quiet sigh escaped me.
“I need to shop soon for this new environment,” I muttered. “Before I die of boredom.”
My phone buzzed against the nightstand. The screen lit up with messages.
Matteo:
Did you sleep at all? Text me when you wake.
Antonio:
Send me a picture. If they stress you, I’ll fly to Russia and break something.
Matteo:
Don’t listen to him. Just checking on you.
Antonio:
But I will break something.
Their messages warmed my chest. Then the screen flashed again.
A new message with no name. The number was unknown.
I opened it.
“We are not finished. Same location. Today.”
My blood ran cold.
Pier Twelve.
My fingers tightened around the phone. Father said he would handle it. He promised. So why was this happening again?
For a moment, the room tilted. Then everything inside me clicked into place with frightening clarity.
No more waiting. No more hiding behind promises.
I would go alone. Whoever was playing games with me would have to show their face today.
I moved to the window and peeked through the curtain. Two guards stood at their posts outside. The Orlov estate was crawling with security; slipping out wouldn’t be easy.
Then again… I wasn’t raised to be helpless. If there was one thing I was good at, it was pulling stunts no one saw coming.
I dressed quickly, tied my hair, and grabbed my small black bag. I slipped my phone inside and looked around the room. The cameras were positioned near the corners, but one blind spot still existed—behind the tall bookshelf Roman’s people placed near the window.
I dragged the shelf slightly, just enough.
Then I climbed out the window onto the balcony ledge, gripping the rail with both hands. The cold rushed against my face. The guard below didn’t even glance up.
I lowered myself slowly and quietly and landed on the grass.
A small smirk tugged my lips.
“Only what a Sicilian princess can pull.”
I walked fast but steady, slipped around the far side of the house, and reached the garage. One of the cars was still parked, keys hanging in the holder.
Perfect.
I grabbed them and drove out through the service gate before anyone noticed.
\---
Pier Twelve looked even worse in daylight. The air felt thick and stale, like it held old secrets no one bothered to clean out. Empty containers lined the dark corners. There were no voices, no footsteps. Nothing.
I parked the car, stepped out, and gripped the gun tucked at my side. If this was a trap, I was ready.
I positioned myself behind a stack of wooden crates, pulled out my phone, and typed:
“I’m here. Show yourself.”
The message was delivered instantly.
Silence answered.
Minutes passed. Only the sound of wind brushing the water. My nerves prickled. I was about to step out when something clattered behind me. A metal object hitting the ground.
I snapped around, gun raised, heart hammering.
Nothing.
The place was empty. Dead quiet. Not even a shadow moved.
Enough of this.
I wasn’t going to dance to someone’s rhythm anymore. If they wanted to scare me, they succeeded. If they wanted a reaction, they got one. And I would make sure they regretted it.
I tucked my gun away and walked back to my car.
Whoever this was… they were wasting my time.
\---
The Orlov estate was buzzing with panic by the time I returned. I parked outside the front entrance.
Before I could step out fully, the doors burst open and Roman stormed toward me.
His expression was fire. His eyes are sharp enough to slice through steel.
“Where were you?”
The words hit me harder than a slap. I froze.