Chapter 29 Moments Between Us
••Roman••
"Luciana, is everything okay?" I approached her on the couch, where she had curled up tightly.
I woke up unusually early this morning, knowing I had plans with Theo, but something felt… off. Luciana was missing from my side.
Around midnight, I’d noticed the bedsheets stir, the sound of her footsteps, and the faint creak of the bathroom door. I assumed she simply needed to use the restroom.
But it was something completely different.
Now, she was curled up on the couch, legs drawn to her chest, a blanket wrapped around her like a protective cocoon. Her eyes were half-open, barely alive.
“Are you alright?” I inquired.
“Yes,” she replied, her tone flat and quick.
“Your posture doesn’t suggest someone who’s okay.”
“The couch is just more comfortable,” she said, trying to sound casual. However, every few moments, she winced, pressing a hand against her lower abdomen. Those tiny flinches, the kind someone tries to hide but fails spectacularly.
I went into the bathroom to relieve myself, and there on the counter lay an open box of tampons, as if she had left it behind.
I picked it up.
So that’s what was happening.
I walked back into the room holding the box. "It's your menses, right? The monthly blood sacrifice to the moon." I asked, making an effort to keep any sarcasm out of my voice.
"How bad is it?" I asked again.
She sighed, eyes half closed. “I’m fine, it’s just for today.”
She didn’t look fine at all. She looked worn out and drained.
\---
••Luciana••
In the middle of the night, I awoke to that dreadful sinking feeling, the one every woman knows well. The one that says, surprise! Blood has arrived. Good luck.
A quick peek in the bathroom confirmed my fear. “Oh goodness,” I murmured. Just perfect. My day was already set to be a disaster. The first day of my period was always hellish—sharp cramps, a heavy flow, an overwhelming need-to-lie-down-or-die energy.
The last time it hit me in this house, I had spent the day pretending to be “tired,” hiding away in my room while no one questioned my absence. It was during Roman’s trip to New York.
The second time, Mildred came to check on me when I hadn’t ventured outside all morning. I’d claimed I had claimed I was engrossed in a book and didn’t want interruptions. That lie worked like a charm.
And now, here we were again… except this time, Roman found me folded up like a bent hanger.
He kept asking how I planned to feel better, but honestly, I just needed to survive the day.
Then he whipped out his phone, searching for remedies online.
“Let me check,” he muttered. “It says a heating pad might help. Some stretches too. Should I get water? You need to stay hydrated.” He read them out like an overenthusiastic medical intern.
“Roman, I’m fine.”
I scooted off the couch and crawled into bed, completely enveloping myself in the duvet. My stomach felt like it was being twisted in knots.
“I have to go somewhere,” he said after a pause. I didn’t respond; I lay still, wishing for sleep to come and whisk me away.
He exited quietly.
Hours passed. My cramps stayed loyal to their job—destroying me.
There was a gentle knock at the door.
“Come in,” I replied weakly.
One of the maids entered, carrying a tray. “Signor Roman asked me to bring this for you,” she said with a warm smile.
On the tray was a covered cup and a neatly wrapped box.
I gestured toward the table. “Just leave it here.”
Once she was gone, i got curious, and reached out from under the blankets and grabbed the box.
Chocolate.
Of course.
Beneath it, there was a folded note. I opened it eagerly.
“I asked my mother to make the herbal brew she gives Mildred for her cramps. It works wonders. The chocolates are just a little something extra, Miss Boss Bitch.”
A smile began to spread across my face before I could help it.
What was getting into him? And why… Why did it feel strangely nice?
I wriggled under the duvet, searching for a comfortable position that wouldn’t make my stomach feel like it was twisting itself into knots.
Then, I spotted something wedged by the edge of the pillow. It was Roman’s tablet—clearly left behind when he had gotten up.
With a lazy reach, I grabbed it, with the intention of dropping it onto the nightstand. Nothing more.
As soon as my fingers brushed the screen, it flickered to life.
Only for a second. A single, bright second.
Long enough for me to glimpse the open page before it locked again.
A message.
From one of his security team leaders.
My name stood out—bold and clear.
And underneath it was a sentence that made my stomach drop far lower than any cramp ever could:
“Sir, we have confirmed she was contacted.
Sender still unknown.
Someone wanted her at Pier Twelve.”
The screen slipped back into darkness, swallowing those chilling words.
I sat there, frozen in place.
Roman knew someone was after me at Pier Twelve? He was aware of the unknown messages. Yet, he hadn’t said a word about it.
The cramp in my stomach suddenly felt like the least painful thing happening to me.