Luca POV
I waited twenty minutes.
"Elena," I called out, rapping my knuckles against the bathroom door. "You’re dragging this out."
Silence.
I knocked harder, impatience flaring in my chest. Still nothing.
With a curse, I kicked the door open.
Empty.
The window was thrown wide, the sheer curtains fluttering in the wind like restless ghosts. I rushed to the sill and looked down.
The fire escape.
She ran away.
I let out a sharp, frustrated breath and ran a hand through my hair. She was being impossible. A tantrum. That’s all this was. She was hurt, she was embarrassed, and she wanted me to chase her.
I wasn't going to play that game.
I left the hospital without a backward glance. I drove straight to the villa—our villa.
It was dark when I arrived.
"Elena?" I shouted.
My voice echoed off the marble walls, hollow and unanswered.
I walked into the kitchen. The counters were bare. Usually, there was a crystal vase filled with fresh lilies. Usually, the air carried a faint, comforting scent of vanilla.
Now, it smelled of nothing but cold air.
I checked the closet. Her clothes were there, hanging in neat rows. Her jewelry was there. Even the engagement ring I had given her—the one she had thrown into the pool—was sitting on the dresser, catching a stray beam of moonlight.
She hadn't taken anything.
"She’ll be back," I told the empty room, my voice rough. "She has nowhere else to go. She has no money. Her accounts are frozen. She’s just hiding in a motel, waiting for me to come save her."
I poured myself a stiff drink and waited.
Two days passed.
Then a week.
The silence in the house began to grate on me, turning from peaceful to oppressive.
I couldn't find my grey tie. Elena always laid it out for me, perfectly matched to my suit. I couldn't find the file on the port deal. Elena always organized the paperwork, anticipating exactly what I would need for the morning briefing.
The coffee tasted bitter. She was the one who calibrated the machine, dialing it in to perfection.
I sat in my office, staring at her empty desk across from mine.
"Where the hell are you?" I muttered to the dust motes dancing in the light.
My phone buzzed against the mahogany. It was Dante.
*Still no sign of the rat?*
I stared at the screen, a muscle ticking in my jaw.
*No,* I typed back.
*Good riddance,* Dante replied instantly. *Sofia is asking if you’re coming over. She needs help with the press release for the algorithm.*
I scoffed at the message. Sofia didn't know the first thing about the algorithm. I had to explain basic encryption to her three times yesterday, and she still looked at me with glazed eyes.
I missed Elena’s sharp mind. I missed the way she understood the complexities of my business before I even asked.
I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, needing to escape the suffocating quiet.
I stopped dead in the entryway.
Her rain boots were gone.
The ones she wore that night she stood outside my gate, shivering in the storm.
A cold feeling settled in my gut, heavy and leaden. A feeling I hadn't experienced in years.
Uncertainty.
I shook it off, forcing my shoulders back. She was bluffing. She was trying to scare me.
I walked out, slamming the door on the silence. But as I drove away, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, I couldn't shake the feeling that the house wasn't just empty.
It was dead.
