“We’ll talk about this when I get back,” I growled at her.
“Why don’t you drop me off in the city on your way there?”
I scoffed at her. “Like I’m ever going to drop you back in the fucking city, Elaine. I’m not letting you go. Ever. So get that idea out of your head. Nothing’s changed because we had a bit of a chat in the kitchen last night.”
“And ate some pasta,” she added, and there it fucking was again, that cheeky smile. “Don’t forget the wonders of slicing salami just right, Lucian. We’re almost besties now.”
“Fuck you,” I said and pulled my pants on.
I left her cross-legged on my bed, in my damn shirt, with her messy blonde curls, looking like a conquest, even though I’d never had one. Elliot Morelli would make fun of me if he knew.
I didn’t say goodbye and neither did she.
Traffic was insane as I made my way into the city, and I tried to play it cool as I returned the calls on my phone. All except my father’s. I didn’t return the call from my father.
My gut was twisted up as I neared Morelli Holdings. I had no idea what the hell I was going to say to my father when he started asking questions.
As it turned out, I didn’t have all that long to think about it.
He was already waiting for me when I arrived.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Elaine
I stayed in Lucian’s bed for a long while after I heard him disappear. His bed was much more comfortable than the one he’d given me—no surprise there—but it was about more than that. It smelled like him. The covers smelled like my monster. I was engulfed by the scent of him.
I could’ve stayed there for days like a schoolgirl with a crush.
I finally dragged myself downstairs when the morning was truly underway, dropping myself onto the sofa and switching on the TV. The news channels blared out about my disappearance. People I’d never met before were being interviewed, commenting and speculating on what had happened to me. There was a police helpline to call with any information.
My family was all over the channels with tearful requests for people to find me. It ate me up inside to think Harriet or Vivian were crying for me.
Part of me expected to see Tristan talking about my disappearance. There was a big chunk of me that thought maybe he would be all guns blazing to let the world know about my interactions with Lucian, but there was nothing. Not a peep from him. I hoped he was doing okay. Just as long as nobody had reached him, or worse, silenced him.
I turned my mind away from that as best as I could.
Lucian wouldn’t have needed to silence him because he had nothing to say that would have any real weight to it. I left a note on my counter. I blamed it on the Power brothers in my own handwriting. Tristan would have believed my note. Not that I expected him to believe everything I said, but this was beyond my usual level of lying, for sure.
I got a weird tickle inside me as I pulled myself away from the TV to grab some breakfast. It was a rush of something in my stomach. Instinct. I stopped on the spot in the hallway and turned to the front door, and there was something about it, an impulse to check the handle. I reached out and didn’t expect to get anywhere, because surely not. I’d heard it slam when Lucian was on his way out, and he’d always lock it, of course he would, only this morning he was rushing.
Maybe…just maybe…
My heart leapt a mile when the door swung open with a creak.
Oh my God, I was free! Free!
It felt so weird stepping onto the porch, because I could run. There were lanes and tracks and roads stretching back out toward the city. No doubt I could find someone, anyone to hear my pleas and screams and efforts to get heard. I could have Lucian Morelli condemned before he’d ever make it back out of Morelli Holdings. I could destroy him. I could.
I grabbed my discarded shoes from behind the door and slipped them on with shaking hands. The world outside was fresh and cold, and the sun was up bright in the sky. Yeah, I could run from here. The driveway was long, sure, but it was doable. I could wrap up in warm clothes and make my dash for it. I could see the back of Lucian Morelli for all time, and cause an inter-family battle that would stand one hell of a good chance of swinging in the Constantines favor, just so long as I could shake off this damn craziness about wanting him…
I could do it. Surely, I could. I should be able to. I should definitely be able to. He was nothing but an enemy of mine who wanted to see me torn apart, and I needed to remember that. I should damn well remember that with every breath in my body. Yes.
Fuck. I cursed myself out loud when I felt the pang of no in my belly. No. What the fuck was no? But it was no. I couldn’t do it. Fuck my life, I couldn’t. There was no damn way I could shake off the damn craziness about wanting him. Not in a million damn years.
Fuck it.
I wandered around the yard, still hoping to talk some sense into myself. The grounds around the house looked pretty wild, compared to the sleek modernity of the interior. I doubted Lucian was nearly as good a gardener as he was a pasta maker. I couldn’t imagine him ever taking active care of the space. I’d never really had a garden, not of my own.
I stepped out onto a patch of grass and spun myself around, truly soaking it all in. There were big sprawling trees and plenty of scope to make this space into something truly amazing. I could do that. I could learn to. I could read some books, and watch some YouTube videos, and get a grip of what would work and where. I cursed myself again as I thought it through. It was nothing but more craziness that would never happen. I needed to stop living such a dream.
I kept the front door open as I made myself some pancakes for breakfast, unable to face shutting the world out. I ventured out onto the lawn with my plate, loving the breeze in my face as I munched my food with a smile. Yeah, I liked it out here. I really damn well liked it.
I didn’t want to watch anymore shit TV, not when there was so much better outside to be looking at. I wrapped up warm in one of Lucian’s designer sweaters from his wardrobe, then tried to find some gardening equipment in the garage. It surprised me to find a set of spades and trowels ready and waiting. Maybe he did have a tiny streak of gardener in him. Maybe I’d even find out.
I was outside on the nearest flower bed on the lawn, dredging up weeds with a trowel when I finally condemned myself for what I was doing. Surely I couldn’t work on Lucian Morelli’s countryside garden? But I could. I did.
In one of the most bizarre and surreal choices of all time, I, Elaine Constantine of the Constantine family line, turned her back on escaping from the Morelli monster’s mansion and tended to his goddamn garden instead.
Go fucking figure.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lucian
No one wanted to meet my eyes as I walked toward my father in the main lobby of Morelli Holdings. He watched me approach with his usual cold expression. No, they didn’t want to look, but they couldn’t help it. My father meeting me in the lobby was a fucking spectacle.
He put his hand out at the last second, and I shook it.
“Meeting room.” He was a terse motherfucker. “Now.”
My father walked beside me to the elevator. It was a silent, tense ride to the ninth floor. He stalked in front of me on the way into the room and took a seat at the head of the table.