“I know, but I still don’t like it.” I traced my fingers down her spine. “What if he changes his plans? What if he has someone watching the house?”
“Nicco promised he’d be gone,” she reminded me. “And Nicco said he’ll have a man there to help me.”
“Still,” I insisted, “I’d feel better if I came with you.”
She lifted her head to look at me, her expression serious despite her tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips. “That would be a mistake. If Lord found out you were in his house, with me, going through his things, he would really be pissed. Lord can kiss my ass, but I’m not going to intentionally do anything to antagonize him.”
I didn’t need her to finish the thought. It would be the ultimate provocation. A line that, once crossed, could never be uncrossed.
“You’re right,” I conceded reluctantly. “But at least call me when you’re there.”
She considered this for a moment before nodding. “I will. I’m just packing up my shit and bouncing. I don’t have much there. Most of my things are back in Chicago, and the things we bought together he can keep.”
I pulled her back down to my chest, satisfied with this small victory. We fell silent again. The gentle rhythm of her breathing against my skin was hypnotic. Outside, the night had deepened, the moonlight casting silver patterns across my bedroom floor.
For this brief moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, we’d found peace. Tomorrow would bring fresh worries, new dangers. Lord’s silence would continue to haunt us, a sword hanging over our heads.
But tonight, we had this. Each other. A temporary sanctuary in the storm that was coming soon. I tightened my arm around her, feeling her drift toward sleep. I made a silent promise to protect what we’d found, whatever the cost. I could never say this to her, but fuck Lordes and whatever game he was playing. There was no way I was going to give Labria back to him without a fight. Hell, I wasn’t going to give her back at all. He fucked up, and I stepped up. I didn’t know this new relative, and I didn’t owe him anything. I was willing to take this to the mattresses. He couldn’t have her back. She was mine now.
Chapter Seven
LABRIA
Tuesday came before I knew it. I received a call from the don himself and not one of his minions. Nicco told me the coast was clear. Lord was on a private plane to New York, and he wouldn’t be back until Thursday night.
I had about forty-eight hours to clear my remaining belongings out of the house I thought was a home. Wrong. That place was a house of lies, a house of horrors. I picked the place, and I loved it at first, then everything changed. It was clear I didn’t have a future with Lord. He was someone else now. Someone I didn’t understand or like anymore.
At work, I cried over him. I couldn’t do it at Maurizio’s. I didn’t know whether he had security cameras inside the house. I would never disrespect Zio by bawling over Lord in his presence. I wished I didn’t love Lord anymore. I literally prayed every day that those intense feelings of love would quickly seep out of my heart.
Feeling this way was the worst. I hated feeling like clawing his blue eyeballs out of his sockets. I wasn’t above violence. Life was life-ing for me. I had already killed a man. I blamed Lord. He put me here, in this state, in this family and in a situation that forced me to take a life. I worked at a fucking bookstorebefore I got all wrapped up in him. I longed for the simplicity of working at the Book Nook. I missed hanging out and gossiping with Brett. I missed my sister and her family. I was slacking on my auntie Bria duties.
I could go back to Chicago, but I really couldn’t just escape all the things that happened while I was here in Sin City. Brett was renting my house now, and there was no way I was going to come back and rain on his independence parade. My future was too much to think about, and I needed to focus on the here and now. Which was getting all my shit out of this man’s house and moving on with my life. There had to be a glow-up waiting right around the corner for me.
Right after work, I changed into some yoga pants, a t-shirt, hoodie and gym shoes and drove over to the house. Nicco claimed he would provide the boxes and whatever else I needed to pack my shit up. I believed him. It’s not like I had caught him in any lies lately.
I stood at the front door of what was once my home, key hovering near the lock as my heart pounded in my chest. Three and a half weeks had passed since I’d walked out, since I’d left Lord and the beautiful prison we’d shared. The moving boxes and packing tape in my arms felt heavier than they should have. I hadn’t expected to come back like this— sneaking in while he was across the country, preparing to erase all evidence that I’d ever lived here. But Nicco had been clear. Lord would be in New York for three days. This was my window, and I couldn’t afford to waste it standing frozen on the doorstep, drowning in memories.
The key slid into the lock with ease. One turn and I was in, stepping into the foyer that still smelled faintly of the expensive Cécred candles I used to burn. The house was eerily silent. There was no music playing, no TV on in the background, no whispersof conversations coming from Lord’s office. There was none of the ambient noise that once made this place feel alive.
Someone Nicco hired had already been inside the house. There were plastic bins and cardboard boxes lined against a wall in the living room. I wondered if Lord had seen them. Did he put them there?
I set my purse down and moved deeper into the house. Something felt off. The living room looked different. It was sparse, like someone had selectively removed items. My throat tightened as I realized what was happening. My things were gone. The decorative pillows I’d chosen, the throw blankets, the art pieces I’d carefully selected. They were all gone.
“What the fuck?” I whispered, turning in a slow circle. I wasn’t going to take the art off the walls. I was only here for my personal stuff.
I hurried to the built-in bookcase. This was where my law books and favorite novels had been arranged by color. Empty spaces gaped between Lord’s business books and autobiographies. My collection was gone. Below the bookshelves were huge plastic tubes that I thought were empty. But no, I pried open the lid of one tub. My books were carefully wrapped and placed inside the tub.
This motherfucka really wanted me out. Either he packed my things up or hired someone to do it. My heart was hurting so badly. I placed my hand on my chest to try to calm myself. I rushed to the kitchen, yanking open the cabinet where I kept my special tea collection. The shelves were bare.
A cold, distant feeling washed over me. Lord had already removed my things. He’d systematically erased me from this house while I’d been gone. I sank onto one of the bar stools, trying to process what this meant. Was he so eager to remove all traces of me? Or was this some kind of message? A way of saying he’d moved on before I could?
I pulled out my phone, tempted to call him, and cuss him all the way out. But what good would that do? We were done, done. Finished. He was sending me a message that I was receiving loud and clear, in HD or 4K or whatever was the clearest resolution known to mankind.
With shaking hands, I made my way upstairs to the bedroom. The bed was made. I opened the closet door, bracing myself for another emptied space, but was surprised to find some of my clothes still hanging there. Dresses, blouses, pants, things I’d worn less frequently. The designer pieces Lord had bought me were untouched. The designer shoes and handbags were still right where I’d left them. What did that mean?
I began taking items off hangers, folding them carefully and placing them in boxes. Each garment held a memory. The black dress I’d worn to a charity event at the Palladium. The blue blouse from our romantic weekend in San Francisco. I worked methodically, trying to disconnect from the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
My phone rang, startling me so badly I dropped a pair of shoes. I reached into my sweatpants back pocket and got my cell. Khia’s name flashed on my screen. I hesitated for just a moment before answering, not sure if I was going to be able to mask my true feelings and have a normal conversation with my sister.
