Chapter 13

Celine's POV

Ahead of me, the old library stretched before me like a horror movie set. Shuttered for renovations two years ago and never relaunched. Boarded windows, ivy creeping ever upward on brick walls, shadows pooling in every corner.

Perfect place for a trap.

I checked my phone. 11:50 PM. Ten minutes early.

My hand closed on the pepper spray in my pocket. Maddie’s number was on speed dial. I’d warned myself that I was being careful.

But really, I was terrified.

The front door was unlocked. It groaned as I forced it open, the sound filling emptiness. Inside, moonlight filtered through gaps in the broken boards, and everything was gray.

"Hello?" My voice sounded small.

No response.

I was able to take few steps but my footprints were loud against the dusty floor. The main reading room unfurled, masses of empty shelving blocking any but the most dappled sunlight from the row after row of tables and reading desks.

My phone read midnight.

"You came."

I spun around, heart hammering.

Amaya emerged from behind a bookshelf. Yet she was anything but the sweet girl from class. Hair close pulled back tight in a raw, cold look. She was dressed all in black, and something about her jangled his danger meter.

“You sent the video,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

"I did." She moved closer, circling me. "You asked to hear the truth about Professor Reed? His actual name is Caelum Morano. He is one of the most dangerous men in Europe. He's running half the underworld out of this dull university town.”

My stomach turned even though I had suspected most of this.

"And you." She stopped in front of me. "You look like his dead girlfriend. That's why he's obsessed. You're a ghost made flesh. A replacement."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" She took her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through photographs. Each one made my blood chill.

Reed in a warehouse, surrounded by men with guns. Reed shaking hands with the criminals I had seen in news reports. Reed looking down at bodies, blood on his clothes, facial expression blank.

“He’s playing you,” Amaya said, voice soft enough to be mistaken for kind. "You're a replacement. A doll to play with because he can’t shed a ghost. Every time he looks at you, this is who he sees. Isabelle. The woman my uncle killed."

I wanted to deny it. But it made sickening sense. The way Reed had looked at me that first day. The book. The careful distance.

"Why are you sharing that with me?"

"Because I want out." She moved closer, urgent. "Help me evidence him. Testify. We'll both be free. You from his fixation, me from my family’s empire.”

"Your family?"

She smiled without warmth. "Nikolai Volkov. My uncle. Didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

My breath caught. Amaya was connected to the crime lord in that picture. Everything was planned. Jason, her transfer, the fact she was in Reed’s class.

"You're a spy," I breathed.

“I’m an inmate just trying to get out.” She grabbed my arm. "Please. You’re the only one who is close enough to Reed to extract what we need.”

Before I could answer, the library filled with light.

Floodlights blazed from every corner. I threw my arm up, blinded.

Men with guns rushed through doors I had no idea were there. Black uniforms, military precision. They surrounded us in seconds.

Amaya cursed and ran.

I was frozen, too afraid to move.

And then he appeared.

The door to the residence creaked open, and Caelum Reed sidled into the room with a gun in hand and eyes chiseled from ice. He didn’t look like a professor at all. Everything screamed predator.

His gaze met mine across the room, fury written in his eyes and knocking the wind out of my lungs.

He didn't chase Amaya. The beam of his thoughts fixed on me like a laser.

“What in hell were you doing? His voice was quiet, deadly.

I couldn't speak.

He came across in long strides, sheathing his weapon. “I asked you a question, Celine.”

“I was in search of some answers,” I stammered at last.

“So you went into an obvious trap?” He took hold of my arm, not roughly but firmly, and without causing me any pain. "You almost got yourself killed!"

Anger flooded through fear.

I ripped my arm free. "By you?! You will kill me too, Don Morano?”

The name landed like a slap. His men shifted uncomfortably.

“Get out of the way,” he told them, still not looking down.

His men disappeared. And we were suddenly alone in the flooded library.

“You looked into me,” he said softly.

“You locked me in an apartment and wouldn’t tell the truth. What did you expect?"

"I expected you to trust me."

I laughed, sharp and bitter. "Trust you? I don’t know who you are, whoever you are! Which one is real?"

"All of them. None of them. Does it matter?"

"Yes!" The word came out as a shout. "You are one lie after another. This monstrous whatever between us is just because I resemble her, right? Isabelle. I'm just a replacement."

Something cracked in his expression. He sent a flash of pain through it before sealing it up.

“That’s what Amaya said to you?”

"She showed me. You’re not a professor; you are a criminal . And I'm what? A consolation prize?"

"Stop."

"Why? Because it's true?"

"Because you're wrong."

We were panting, inches away from one another. I could see the scar above his eyebrow, gold flecks in his hazel eyes, the muscle twitch in his jaw.

“Then tell me the truth,” I demanded. "All of it."

He looked at me long and hard. Then his face shuttered, cold and distant.

"If I had to kill you, Celine, you wouldn't see it coming.

The words hit like a blow. I stepped back.

He started out, footsteps noising.

"Wait."

He stopped but didn't turn.

"Why did you save me? I’m just a ghost, why keep saving me?”

Silence. And, under her breath, “It’s because you’re not a ghost. You’re the only real thing in my world.”

He made his way to the door, hesitated. "You want the truth? Fine. Tomorrow. My house. I'll tell you everything. But after that, you leave. Deal?"

Every instinct was telling me to say no. To run.

But I couldn't.

"Deal," I heard myself say.

He nodded and disappeared.

I was standing alone, the light and shadows surrounding me, asking myself what I'd gotten into.

\---

Maddie attempted to converse with me when I returned, but no words would come out. Just shook my head and went to bed.

Morning came gray. My phone displayed a missed call from some unknown number.

I got dressed. Jeans, simple shirt, boots. Armor.

A text came at noon, with an address. No message. Just coordinates.

A penthouse downtown. Expensive area.

The doorman opened the door. "Miss Moretti? Mr. Morano is expecting you. Top floor."

The elevator was mirrored. I saw myself rising, white-faced.

It opened into a penthouse. We had floor to ceiling windows with a view of the city. Minimalist, expensive, controlled.

Like him.

Reed was standing by the windows, his back to me. Dark pants, white shirt, sleeves rolled up. No tie.

“You followed,” he said, facing away.

"You knew I would."

"I hoped." He faced around, weariness on his countenance. "Can I get you something?"

"Whiskey."

His eyebrow rose. "It's noon."

I’m about to have my professor tell me he’s in the mafia.” I've earned it."

A near smile passed over his face. He poured us both two glasses.

I sat. He sat across, maintaining distance.

“What do you want me to begin with?”

"The beginning."

He took a long drink. "I was born into this. My father was Don before me. This is not a choice, this is who you are. A legacy written in blood."

I drank whiskey and let it burn.

“I didn’t get nothing but to inherit everything at twenty five. Nikolai Volkov’s men killed my father. They were trying to disrupt our activities. It worked."

His voice was flat, detached.

"I spent five years rebuilding. Becoming ruthless. Untouchable."

"And Isabelle?" I asked quietly.

Pain flickered. "She was a diplomat's daughter. We met at a charity event. She didn't know what I was. She made me want to be better.”

He rose and went over to the windows. “I was going to spill, ask her to marry me, get out. But Nikolai found out. He orchestrated an accident. Her car went off a bridge. She drowned when I was in a meeting.”

His voice cracked slightly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It was my fault. So I made a promise. I'd destroy Nikolai. But I would do so from the shadows. I'd become what she loved. Professors. Scholars. I'd hide in plain sight."

"That's why you're here."

He nodded. "Ten years of planning. I'm close. Nikolai knows it. That's why he sent Amaya. Why he's targeting you."

I placed my glass on the table, shaking. "And me? Am I just her replacement?"

He came over to me, knelt down so we were facing each other. "At first, maybe. When you came through the door and I saw your face, the world went hazy for a second and part of my brain thought I was hallucinating. You have her smile. The way to turn your head.”

Tears burned my eyes.

"But then you spoke. Challenged me. You are chaos where she was calm. Fire where she was water. You make me feel things I thought died with her.”

"What things?"

"Everything. Anger. Fear. Desire. Hope." His hand was above my face. "You're not a replacement. You're something entirely new. Something I don’t get how to deal with.”

"Then why push me away?"

"Because I'm dangerous. Because everyone who ever got close to me always ends up damaged.”

I stared at him. Professor and crime lord, and something broken.

“You’re not the monster they portrayed,” I said. “But also, you are not a good man.”

"I never claimed to be."

I stood. He rose with me.

"I should go."

He nodded. "I'll have someone drive you."

Holding the handle, I made my way to the door. This was it. The end.

I opened it. Stepped out. The elevator doors stood open.

I pressed the button. Doors started closing.

And I couldn't do it.