Chapter 52 I NEED DISTANCE FROM YOU
••Roman••
I stepped out of the living room, where I was enjoying a movie with Luciana, to take Theo's call. I had a feeling it was about what he had filled me in on earlier today, and I couldn't discuss it in front of Luci—it's not something I want her to be aware of just yet. After all, if I were to bring it up with her, she deserves a thorough explanation.
I moved into the bedroom and answered the call on the second ring. “Go ahead,” I said.
Theo took a deep breath on the other end, and that single action told me everything I needed to know. He never hesitated unless the news was bad.
“I’ve got confirmation,” he said. “Your father was aware.”
I tightened my grip on the phone. “Aware of what, exactly?”
“That Andrian was being targeted.”
His words hit me like a physical blow. Targeted signified intent. It signified a plan. “When did this happen?” I pressed.
“A few days before the accident,” Theo informed me. “One of Lorenzo’s men discreetly told him. Marco Valerio had someone monitoring Andrian's movements, routes, and schedule.”
My jaw tightened. “And?”
“And then a new smuggling deal came in from the east. It was a big one and urgent, which made your father shifted focus.”
I closed my eyes. "So he chose profit,” I said quietly.
“He chose priority,” Theo corrected, then paused. “But yes.”
My chest felt tight, like something was pressing down hard and refusing to move. “Did he warn Andrian.”
“No.”
“Did he increase security.”
“No.”
And he also didn't tell me. Silence filled the line.
“He might have forgot,” Theo added carefully. “Or decided it wasn’t serious enough.”
I laughed once. “People don’t forget threats like that.”
“No,” Theo agreed. “He probably didn't take it serious.”
My throat burned. I dragged a hand down my face and felt wetness I hadn’t expected. I stared at my fingers like they belonged to someone else.
“I stood at that hospital,” I said slowly. “I looked at Luciana and told her we would find answers.”
Theo didn’t respond.
“I shook hands with men who knew,” I continued. “I stood in my father’s office days later and listened to him talk about legacy and loyalty.” My voice dropped. “He knew.”
Another tear slipped free. I didn’t bother wiping it away.
“What are you going to do,” Theo asked quietly.
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “But I am not letting this sit."
"Your Father won’t take confrontation well.”
“I don’t care.”
“He will see it as weakness.”
“I don’t care,” I repeated, sharper this time. “He let his son die. My blood."
Theo exhaled. “What about Luciana?"
The name made my chest ache.
“I can't tell her yet." I said immediately.
There was a pause. Then, “Are you sure?"
I turned slightly, my eyes drawn to the door. It was too late now. Luci stood there, her hands gripping the doorknob, her eyes glistening with tears as she looked at me.
Oh no! I hadn’t wanted this moment to unfold. Had she overheard everything?
My hands dropped from my ear, the phone still clutched tightly in my grip. I struggled to find the right words. She remained there, waiting. “So you knew,” she finally broke the silence.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound emerged.
“You knew,” she emphasized, her voice rising in intensity. “Your family was aware that something would happen to Andrian and did nothing.”
“That’s not—”
She laughed, sharp and hollow. “Don’t.”
“Luci,” I said, stepping forward. “You didn’t hear everything.”
“I heard enough,” she snapped. “Enough to know that the accident wouldn't have happened if you people did something earlier."
“That is not what it is,” I said, my voice low. “Please allow me—"
She stared at me like she’d never seen me before.
“There will never be a good time, Roman.”
Before I could say another word, she turned and walked out.
The door banged behind her. The sound felt louder than gunfire.
••Luciana••
I didn’t trust myself to stay in that room. If I did, I would scream, or cry, or say something I could never take back.
The elevator ride down felt endless. My reflection in the mirrored walls looked broken, because I am broken. I tried to compose myself to stop the tears from coming. Not here in this place.
Once I stepped out of the elevator, I made my way to the hotel lounge. It was eerily quiet, and my vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. I settled into a corner seat, finally allowing my emotions to spill over.
My heart raced uncontrollably, and tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t scream or make a disturbance; I just needed to ease the heavy burden pressing down on my heart.
Roman's voice reverberated in my mind, echoing the words I hadn’t intended to hear.
So they knew, before Andrian died.
Why would they do that to family? He was the heir to the Orlov Mafia.
I pressed my fingers into my palm until it hurt.
Had Roman known then or had he only found out now. I didn’t know. What I knew was that his world had touched mine long before I was ready, long before I understood the cost.
And yet today he had held my hand on the ice. Steady and patient. Careful not to let me fall.
The thought made my stomach twist. I had laughed. I had leaned into him. I had let myself forget for a few hours what grief felt like. That felt like betrayal.
Andrian’s face came to me then, not broken or bleeding, but alive. Smiling the way he used to when he thought I was being dramatic. Would he forgive me for smiling today? I didn’t know.
What I did know was that Roman Orlov was not just a man I was growing close to. He was a door and behind that door were truths I wasn’t sure I could survive.
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold.
I thought about how easily I had begun to fit into his space. His couch. His car. His arms.
That scared me more than anything else, because if I stayed close, if I let myself care deeper, then whatever came next would destroy me completely.
I stood up slowly.
There would be answers. One day but not tonight.
Tonight, I needed distance. From him. From us. From whatever was beginning to grow between the ruins.
I didn’t know yet if Roman was a mistake, but i knew one thing: I couldn’t be this close to him anymore.