There weren’t any guards around the perimeter when the taxi driver dropped me off at the gates. I entered the code in the keypad at the gates, then slipped in, confused. I’d thought I would have to sneak in, but there wasn’t anyone around. The mansion, too, was oddly quiet when I stepped inside and the curtains in the living area were closed, stopping the early morning light from spilling in. Everyone must have left, but why?
Worry settled in the pit of my stomach.
“Lily?” I called. “Gianna?”
“They aren’t here,” came a low growl from the back.
Luca.
He was sitting in the dark on the couch. I felt for the light switch and bathed us in the soft glow. “Luca?”
My eyes took in the Christmas tree on the floor, its baubles smashed to pieces, and next to it Luca’s broken mobile. What happened here?
Had there been another Bratva attack?
My eyes found Luca hunched over on the couch, dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His elbows were propped up on his strong thighs and he was staring down at something. He didn’t look up at me.
I approached him slowly, worried about his strange behavior. His shoulders were heaving with his breaths as if he’d run several miles. I stopped beside him and followed his gaze down to the black screen of his iPad.
“An associate from the press contacted me with photos that were supposed to make headline,” he said in a cold voice.
That voice wasn’t one he usually used for me.
“Photos?”
Luca touched his iPad and it flickered to life.
I sucked in a deep breath.
The screen showed a photo taken through the windows of the restaurant I’d chosen for my meeting with Val. But Val wasn’t in it.
It showed me with Dante’s hands on my shoulders. He was close behind me, his face tilted toward me, mouth close to my ear as if he was whispering secrets into it when all he’d done was warn me not to run.
The next photo was of Dante and me leaving the restaurant together, hand in hand. My face was lowered, so Luca didn’t see how tense I’d been in that moment.
Luca clicked the next photo.
A photo of me in a car with Dante, and it looked as if he had his hand between my legs—and not because he’d reached for the purse.
Bile traveled up my throat.
These looked bad.
Really bad. They would have looked bad to someone who had average trust in people, but Luca was distrustful, suspicious and cautious. For him these photos could only lead to one conclusion. But he couldn’t possibly believe I had an affair with Dante? God, he should know better. He knew me.
“Luca,” I whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but I froze when he raised his eyes to mine. I had never seen that look in his eyes. They were wild with anger.
I wanted to run as far away as I could.
My eyes flickered to the empty bottle of whisky at his feet. Luca had drunk most of it. Some of the amber liquid had spilled and stained the beige carpet, but there were also darker stains. Slowly my gaze moved on to his hands, which were clutching a knife. One of his palms was curled around the blade so tightly that blood was dripping down his hand and onto the carpet.
I knew I needed to run, but that would have been admittance to a crime I hadn’t committed. I hadn’t cheated on Luca, would never do it. And the words Luca had said to me on our wedding night flashed through my mind. Did your father never teach you to hide your fear from monsters? They give chase if you run.
“You’re bleeding. You’ve hurt yourself,” I said in a soothing voice, trying to get through to him. I needed to get past the demons the alcohol and the compromising photos had summoned.
His face twisted with so much rage, I recoiled from it. He released the blade and more blood dripped down his hand as he straightened from the sofa.
I took a step back, couldn’t stop myself.
The arm with the knife hung limply at his side.
I forced myself to meet his gaze again. Luca was in there somewhere. Behind the anger and the hurt, my Luca was in there.
“Luca, please listen to me. It’s not how it looks.”
“So you didn’t let Cavallaro have what’s mine?” he roared. And he was upon me, his bleeding hand clamped down on my forearm. He was still holding the knife.
“I would never do that! You will always be the only man I want to be with. I went to Chicago to meet with Val and talk to Fabi. But Dante followed Val and wanted to talk to me. That’s all, I swear.”
“And what’s your swear worth? You’ve betrayed me before.”
“I never lied to you. I never cheated. I helped my sisters and didn’t always tell you everything, but I never lied to you.” He was the one who’d cheated, and it wasn’t like he’d never kept a secret from me—like Matteo asking for Gianna’s hand.