Chapter 30 You No Longer Belong Here
••Roman••
“The messages were from an unknown source,” I informed Theo as we drove along. “Luci didn’t just happen to stroll out that morning. Someone drew her to Pier Twelve.”
Theo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Any idea who it might be? What’s their motive?”
“That’s the key question we need to answer,” I said. “Whoever it was certainly anticipated her arrival.”
Theo let out a quick breath. “You might not like what I’m about to share. I’ve gotten wind that Marco Valero is organizing some sort of high-profile banquet. He’s inviting all the mafia families under the guise of promoting peace.”
I rolled my eyes. “Peace? Marco doesn’t have a clue what that word means. Trouble is his middle name.”
“He’s definitely up to something significant,” Theo added.
“What’s happening with the recent shipment we flagged?” I pressed.
“I’m still on that,” Theo replied. “No concrete news just yet.”
I tapped my fingers against my leg, feeling the urgency. “We need to uncover the truth before his games escalate into something more dangerous.”
When we got home, the lights in the living room were on. Luciana was there, surrounded by her laptop and scattered papers, intensely focused with a look that resembled a tiny CEO lost in chaos.
••Luciana••
I stared at my laptop, unable to keep my mind from racing. The message I’d spotted on Roman's screen wouldn't leave me alone.
If he was aware of Pier Twelve... why hadn’t he said anything? Why didn’t he challenge me? Why pretend everything was normal?
Perhaps he didn’t want to stir up trouble, or maybe he just didn't care. Both possibilities frustrated me.
I pushed those thoughts aside to concentrate on the Sapphire Lounge documents while snacking on the delicious chocolates Roman had brought earlier. They were criminally good.
Just then, Roman and Theo entered.
“I see you’re back in your boss-bitch mode,” Roman commented, glancing over at my disorganized files.
I managed a small smile. “The herbal brew did wonders. Thanks for that.”
As he walked past, something compelled me to halt him.
“Roman,” I called. “I need a word.”
He paused and settled next to me as Theo slipped down the hallway. “I’m all ears,” he said.
“I really need to be at Sapphire Lounge more often if I want to make real progress,” I explained. “It’s tough keeping track of everything from here.”
“No,” he shot back immediately. “That place is crawling with dangerous people. I can’t let you go whenever you fancy.”
“I’ll bring bodyguards,” I insisted.
“That’s still not enough.”
We went back and forth, like two stubborn goats on a narrow bridge.
Finally, he sighed. “Alright, you can go. But I’ll be accompanying you every single time. Plus, I have business in Sicily, so when I decide to leave, I’ll let you know. We’ll go together.”
A smile tugged at my lips—I hadn’t expected him to relent at all. “Okay, deal.”
“If that’s all,” he said, standing up.
“Nothing else,” I replied, and he headed to his study.
\---
Three days later, we were off to Sicily. I was busy packing in the room.
“Are we moving continents?” he quipped, sarcasm lacing his voice.
“We’re only staying for three days,” he groaned as I zipped up yet another bag.
“I need everything. No backups,” I answered, cramming in an extra sweater I certainly didn’t need.
Upon arriving in Sicily, the housekeeper greeted us and showed me to my room. This place looked opulent—comfortable and full of life. It made our Russian mansion feel like some ghostly museum.
Roman and I were assigned separate rooms, which didn’t bother me; I appreciated having my own space.
Later, I asked him, “Since we’re in Sicily… can I visit my family?”
He didn’t refuse; he simply nodded. “Take guards with you.”
My heart skipped a beat. It had been ages since I’d been home. My previous life felt like a distant dream I was struggling to recall.
As we approached the house, I texted Matteo and Antonio, hoping to surprise them. But Matteo was in a different city, and Antonio was off on a business trip with Vikoz—I wondered when he had started going on business trips.
Both my brother and my best friend were miles away.
Heavy disappointment settled in my chest, yet I still walked inside.
The staff welcomed me warmly, their smiles genuine, but the house felt strange… empty. It was as if the walls were holding their breath, waiting.
I stepped inside, letting my gaze sweep across the well-known hallway. The scent, the sounds, the stillness—it all wrapped around me like a blanket of nostalgia that felt both comforting and alien at the same time.
Then I heard footsteps on the stairs.
My father emerged.
Next to him stood a woman I had never seen before. She carried herself with elegance, yet there was a stiffness in her demeanor that made me scan her with curiosity. Who was she?
Our eyes locked.
“Luciana,” he said.
“Dad,” I replied softly, my heart fluttering with the anticipation of a hug, a smile, something warm to bridge our distance.
He stepped closer.
“What brings you here?” His voice was anything but welcoming—there was an edge to it, as if delivering an unavoidable verdict.
“I came back,” I murmured. “To see the house… to check on you… and on Antonio.” His next words cut through me like a knife.
“You don’t belong here anymore, Luciana.”
He didn’t flinch or hesitate. “You should be in your husband’s home. You belong to the Orlovs now.”
My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat. A chill spread through my hands.
I stood frozen, staring at him, unable to process what he had said.
The house that I grew up in now seemed to regard me as an intruder standing at a stranger’s door.