Chapter 29 Someone close
Rafael
Something was off.
I could tell from Flora's message. The words were right, but the tone felt wrong.
I paced the security room, watching the monitors as her car made its way back to the estate.
The minutes crawled by. Each second felt like an hour.
When her car finally pulled through the gates, I was already at the front door.
She stepped out, clutching her purse tight against her chest. Her face was pale.
I didn't think. I just moved.
My arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. She went rigid for a moment, then collapsed against me.
And she broke.
Sobs wracked her body. I held her tighter, my hand cradling the back of her head.
"It's okay," I whispered. "You're safe. I've got you."
She pulled back, tears streaming down her face. "My name isn't Flora. It isn't Eva. It's Lucia."
Lucia.
The name felt foreign on my tongue. She wasn't Eva. She had never been Eva.
She was Lucia.
"Okay," I said softly. "Lucia."
She flinched at the sound of her real name. "Isabella told me everything. About the embryo. About Dr. Vasquez. About how I was frozen for five years and then born to replace Eva if anything happened to her."
"Did she say who's behind it?"
Lucia shook her head. "She said it's too dangerous. That if she tells me, we'll both die." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But she said they're close to you."
My blood ran cold.
"Close to me?”
She nodded.
I pulled her close again.
"I don't know what to call you anymore," I admitted. "Eva, Flora, Lucia…"
"Just call me Flora," she said quietly. "I'm used to that."
We stood there for a long time.
That night, I watched her sleep.
She tossed and turned, her breathing uneven. Even in sleep, she found no peace.
I couldn't sleep either. My mind raced with possibilities.
Someone close to me had orchestrated all of this. Had created Flora or Lucia as a replacement for Eva. And had killed Eva when she got too close to the truth.
But who?
I slipped out of bed and made my way to my study. The house was dark and silent.
Marco was already there, sitting in one of the leather chairs by the window.
"Couldn't sleep either?" He asked.
"No." I poured myself a whiskey and stood by the window, staring out at the estate grounds. The security lights cast long shadows across the lawn.
"I was stupid," I said finally. "I shouldn't have brought her here. I thought she was Eva. I thought I could have her back. But she's not Eva." I let out a sigh.
"Now I can't let her go." I drained the whiskey in one gulp. "I know she's not Eva. But I still want her here."
I expected Marco to argue. He'd been against the idea from the beginning. Had warned me repeatedly that I was making a mistake.
But instead, he just nodded.
"She needs to be protected," he said. "From whatever is coming. It's best if she stays close to you. You have the resources to keep her safe."
I turned to look at him. "You're actually supporting this?"
"I'm supporting keeping her alive," Marco said. "Because whoever created her, whoever killed Eva, they're not going to stop. And if they realize she knows the truth, she's dead."
He was right.
"I want to visit Isabella and make her tell me everything." I said.
"No." Marco stood up. "You can't. It might put you both in danger."
"Then what do I do? Just wait?"
"Yes. We will investigate carefully. And protect Flora until we know exactly who we're dealing with."
I hated it. But he was right.
I went back to the bedroom and slipped under the covers beside Flora.
I reached out and took her hand. She settled slightly.
Whatever she was, clone, twin, or replacement. I wasn't letting her go.
Morning came quickly.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a message from Marco.
"We found Dr. Irina Vasquez's location already."
I was up and dressed in minutes.
Flora stirred as I pulled on my shirt but she didn't wake up. I stared at her longer than I should have.
And I found myself kissing her forehead and left.
Marco was waiting in the car. "We don't want to draw attention," he said. "No security detail. Just us."
"I don't need protection," I said. "I can handle myself."
We drove in silence. Marco had booked an appointment with Dr. Vasquez under my name. He'd positioned me as a wealthy client interested in her services.
"She's attracted to money," Marco explained. "Very greedy. Flash your wealth and she'll talk."
So Marco handed me an Italian suit he had just ordered. And a designer watch.
Dr. Vasquez's clinic was in a quiet part of the city. The kind of place rich people went when they wanted privacy.
As we pulled up, I noticed fresh tire tracks in the gravel driveway. It was recent. Maybe an hour old at most.
But Dr. Vasquez's car, a sleek black Mercedes, was parked in the compound. And the hood was cold.
"Marco," I said quietly. "Something's wrong."
He saw it too. "Those tracks are fresh. But her car hasn't moved in hours."
Marco stayed in the car while I approached the entrance. The door was slightly ajar. Like someone had left in a hurry.
I pushed the door open and walked in.
The lights were off. The reception area was dark.
I found the light switch and flipped it.
And my world tilted.
On the floor, sprawled in a pool of blood, was Dr. Irina Vasquez.
Her body was twisted at unnatural angles. Her arms bent backward. Her legs were shattered. Her face was frozen in a scream of agony.
Someone had tortured her brutally before finally killing her.
The blood was still warm.
It spread to my shoes, seeping into the leather.
I looked around the room. Papers scattered everywhere. Files torn open. A computer monitor smashed.
Someone had been looking for something.
And they'd just left.
Then I heard the sound of a door from the back of the clinic.
I wasn't alone.
The killer was still here.