Chapter 89 – Fracture Lines

Chapter 89 – Fracture Lines
(Levi’s POV)

The apartment felt wrong without her.

It wasn’t quiet — Luca’s pacing and low phone calls filled the space — but it was the wrong kind of noise. Too purposeful. Too contained. Eden had a way of filling a room just by existing, her presence this mix of warmth and stubborn light. Now, all that was left was a cold echo of her absence.

I’d barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her barefoot, cornered, her eyes wide and panicked. Sometimes in my head she was calling my name, other times she wasn’t — and those were worse, because in those versions she’d already given up on us finding her.

Luca stood in front of the windows, phone pressed to his ear, his tone measured but sharp enough to cut glass. “I don’t care how backed up your lab is. We need that DNA processed today. Not in two days. Not next week. Today.”

I moved to the kitchen and yanked open the fridge, staring into it like the answers might be hiding between the carton of eggs and last night’s leftover takeout. My hands wouldn’t stay still — tapping against the door, flexing at my sides. “They’re stalling,” I muttered, loud enough for him to hear. “You know they are.”

His gaze flicked to me, warning in his eyes. “Not helping.”

I shut the fridge hard enough for the bottles in the door to rattle. “Not helping? She’s out there, Luca. Someone planned this. They knew her building, her habits, her security. This wasn’t random. And you want me to just sit here and—”

“Until we have proof, we can’t move,” he snapped, his voice suddenly not so controlled.

The words hit like a slap. “Proof? We need to find her, not build a damn case file.”

He dragged a hand down his face, the first crack in his composure all morning. “And if we storm the wrong place without it? If we make the wrong move? She pays for it. We do this clean.”

I hated that he was right. Hated it so much I needed to hit something. My fists clenched so tight my knuckles ached, but I just started pacing in the opposite direction from him, like if we crossed paths right now one of us would throw the first punch.

The silence between us was heavy enough to choke on.

Finally, he spoke again, softer this time. “I called Harper.”

That stopped me cold. “You told her?”

“She’s her sister,” he said, not backing down. “She has a right to know.”

I swore under my breath. “She’s going to lose it.”

“She already did.” He exhaled, leaning his forearm against the glass. “She blames herself for not keeping Eden away from… whoever did this. She’s coming by later. We’re going to need her.”

I shoved both hands into my hair, tugging hard enough to sting. Harper. She’d come in swinging — at us, at the cops, at herself. And she wouldn’t stop until we had Eden back in her arms.

Good. Because neither would we.

I turned toward the windows, staring down at the city streets. Every car, every pedestrian could have been her. I scanned faces I couldn’t even make out, my pulse pounding harder with each one that wasn’t hers.

“When the lab calls,” I said finally, my voice like gravel, “we move. No hesitation. No matter what it takes.”

Luca didn’t argue this time. He just nodded, jaw tight, and went back to pacing — because waiting was the only thing we could do right now, and it was already killing us.