Chapter 34 QUIET BETWEEN US
••Roman••
As I stepped out, I noticed Luciana waiting by the car, her arms casually crossed as she stared off into space, lost in thought.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, which was unusual. Luciana was always alert, always aware of her surroundings, especially in public. Tonight, she looked distant, like her body was present but her mind was somewhere far beyond reach.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said as I approached her.
“It’s fine,” she replied.
Her tone was unnervingly calm. She climbed into the passenger seat without saying anything more, closing the door with measured precision.
About halfway through the drive home, the silence grew heavy and uncomfortable. Luciana was unusually quiet; on her worst days, she would typically fill the air with her complaints, observations, and random thoughts, questions she never waited to be answered. But now, there was nothing.
The hum of the engine felt louder than it should have, every turn of the tire echoing in the space she wasn’t filling. I stole a few glances her way, but nothing changed. Her expression remained neutral, her eyes fixed out the window, her jaw clenched as if she was grappling with something inside. The streetlights washed over her face in intervals, illuminating tension she clearly didn’t want seen.
“Are you okay?” I ventured to ask.
“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone sharp.
The word landed like a warning, clipped and final.
“Alright then,” I responded, my focus back on the road. Whatever was going on, I hoped it would fade by the time we reached the villa. Maybe it was just one of those fleeting mood swings that'll burn out quickly. Women seldomly have those sometimes. Or so I told myself.
The house felt colder than usual when we got back. Not physically, or emotionally. The walls stood tall and familiar, but something about the air felt altered, like the house itself sensed the shift between us. Luciana went straight upstairs without saying a word.
I stayed back in the living room, loosening my cufflinks and replaying the night in my head like a broken recording.
The dinner. Mustapha. The conversation. Her waiting. Luciana’s unusually restrained responses.
Had I said something wrong?
I had been careful, and calculative. Nothing out of line. Nothing that should warrant this level of withdrawal. Still, something was off. I could feel it in the way she avoided looking at me, in the way silence had replaced her presence.
Two days passed like that. It was two days of brief answers, and polite distance. A version of Luciana that looked like her but felt unfamiliar.
She moved through the villa like a guest, not a resident. She avoided shared spaces unless necessary, and when we crossed paths, her words were trimmed down to the bare minimum.
On the third morning, she finally spoke.
“I’m going to Sapphire Lounge by evening.”
It was the first full sentence she’d said to me since we returned from that dinner. I looked up from my laptop, surprised by the sound of her voice. For a second, I wondered if I had imagined it.
I had cracked my head trying to trace where things went wrong. I even asked Theo to quietly look into her movements, her calls, anything unusual that might explain this shift. He came back with nothing.
Nothing had happened to her. At least, nothing I knew of.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What time? So I can get things done before then.”
“You don’t need to go with me. I wouldn’t take long.”
That stopped me. We had always gone together.
Partly because Sapphire Lounge wasn’t safe. Guards or not, that place attracted the wrong kind of men. And partly because… it wasn’t bad taking the ride with her, even when she annoyed me. The car rides were one of the few places where conversations happened without walls.
“Is everything okay?” I inquired, keeping a keen eye on her. This would be my final question on the matter; I couldn’t let myself appear vulnerable—not as the new heir, and certainly not as her husband.
“No,” she replied, already turning to leave. With that, she exited the living room.
Perhaps there wasn’t anything wrong after all. That was the comforting lie I tried to accept.
Part of me found it admirable how dedicated she was to Sapphire Lounge. The updates I received indicated significant progress—clean ups, staff restructuring, and financial trails tightening.
She was close. Very nearly there.
Her father must have recognized it too, which likely explained why the property was under her name. Luciana was far from reckless; she was thorough and determined.
Occasionally, when I walked past her room late at night, I’d notice the light still glowing. She worked light she was chasing something. Whatever it was, she refused to share it with me. Even though I had intended to be back in Russia by now, I chose to stay. Father had been sending updates through Theo—deals, shipments, alliances.
I understood I should be at the house, but I wanted to give Luciana time. Just a few more days to finish whatever she was building at the Lounge. So I told Theo to forward only what required my attention.
My phone rang that afternoon. It was Mildred.
“Roman,” she said, dragging my name like a child bored out of her mind. “I’m bored at home.”
“So how does this information help me?” I asked.
“Theo said he was sending some reports to you over there,” she continued. “Can I come along?”
I sighed. Theo shared too much with Mildred sometimes. I often wondered what she had on him.
“No, you can’t,” I said firmly.
“Please,” she whined. “I haven’t been able to go out because you’re not around. I’m stuck in this house.”
She wasn’t going to let it go. And annoyingly, a thought crept in. Having her around might help. Luciana had barely spoken to anyone. Maybe Mildred’s presence would shake something loose, disrupt the careful silence Luciana had built around herself.
“Okay,” I finally said.
“Thank you, brother!” she squealed before hanging up.
I set my phone down and leaned back into the couch.
Somewhere between that dinner, something had slipped through my fingers.
Luciana was drifting, and I had no idea how to pull her back.